DYING FOR THE DARK LORD: An Augury Origin Tale (3)
by Amandah Leigh
Summary: Clutching her infant daughter, Bellatrix knows should stay put to await the wrath of her Master (and lover) the Dark Lord, but instead she sneaks away to Hogwarts to beg for help from Severus Snape. When she arrives she's shocked to find he's not alone. Tomorrow, the Final Battle begins. *CURSED CHILD SPOILERS* DARK Bellatrix/Voldemort; shades of Bella/Snape *MATURE READERS ONLY*
1. Chapter 1: Robbed

**DYING FOR THE DARK LORD**

 **Detailed Description:** Bellatrix didn't _mean_ to point the Golden Trio in the direction of her Gringotts vault while torturing Hermione, but that's exactly what she's done. Now Hufflepuff's cup is gone and the Dark Lord is angry. Huddled in her room at Malfoy Manor, clutching her infant daughter, Bellatrix awaits His wrath, unaware that she has less than a day left to live. While waiting she has time to think, time to panic. So she goes to Hogwarts to ask Snape for advice – but is surprised to find he's not alone. Upon returning to Malfoy Manor, she has time for one last chat with her youngest sister, during which secrets are revealed and alliances are nearly broken, before the Dark Lord returns... and the Battle at Hogwarts begins.

Like the two stories that preceded it, DYING FOR THE DARK LORD is a dark, twisted fic inappropriate for underage readers, but presented without specific trigger warnings. You don't have to read MISTRESS OF THE DARK LORD or LOYAL TO THE DARK LORD first, but it would certainly help this one make the most sense if you did. Mostly Bellatrix/Voldemort with a touch of Bella/Snape and a hint of Snape/Narcissa (because the guy gets around, okay? lol -jk). Thanks for reading!

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 **CHAPTER ONE:**

 **Robbed**

No. It couldn't be.

Gringotts was safe.

Protected.

Under their control.

How could three teenagers possibly manage to break in, enter her vault, and remove the one thing He trusted her to protect? Everyone knew Gringotts was the safest place in the Wizarding World to hide anything, save, perhaps, for Hogwarts.

How could she have let this happen?

How could those goblins have let the kids escape?

How was her Master going to punish her when He returned?

She fingered the thin silver band on her right ring finger. _"You belong to me,"_ the inscription read, His Christmas gift for her.

"Yes," she whispered, turning it around so the three small emeralds faced out. "Please don't be angry, Master. Please…"

A whimpering from the crib in the corner of the room cut through the silence, shaking her. The whimper grew to a cry.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she snapped, but she immediately felt guilty for it. She was exorbitantly proud of the fact that she'd carried and birthed the baby of the Dark Lord and loved the little girl more than she'd ever thought she could love anyone or anything, but had she known how much work motherhood would be, she might have thought twice before conceiving.

She reached into the crib, lifting out the two-month-old, who was born slightly premature and now weighed eight pounds at eight weeks old, up three since birth.

"You're hungry," said Bellatrix. "I'll feed you fast. You need to be asleep before He gets here. He will be angry, Nova."

Nova was the name she had given the baby. Nova Black. She couldn't let it share her last name, a name she acquired through marriage, given that her husband was not the baby's father. Only she and her sister Narcissa ever used the baby's name, though. Rodolphus made sure never to refer to her as anything but "it," and only when absolutely necessary, while the Dark Lord simply called her "your baby," to which Bellatrix tended to reply, " _Our_ baby."

Aside from her family (two brothers-in-law, one nephew, both sisters, and presumably her niece) the only one aware of the girl's existence was suspected double-agent Severus Snape, who had thus far only referred to Nova as "she" and "her."

Despite the secrecy surrounding her very existence, Bellatrix adored her daughter, and relished in calling her "Nova Black," almost as if it were one word. The name Nova was in keeping with those of the members of the Black family. A nova was an explosion on a dwarf star. Bellatrix was named for the third brightest star in the constellation Orion. Draco, Narcissa, Andromeda, Sirius, and Regulus all had names that derived from stars or constellations too, as did a great many of their ancestors. Her only regret was that she couldn't add "Riddle" after Black, but since she knew how He felt about His birth name, she never suggested it.

To quiet the baby's crying, Bellatrix partially unbuttoned and parted the front of her dress, then slipped down her bra, positioning Nova so she could comfortably latch on. Then Bella slumped into the corner of the room by the crib, leaning against the wall for support, watching her baby suckle peacefully, no longer needing to wail. She couldn't help smiling slightly at the sight. She knew the breastfeeding disgusted her sister Narcissa ("Why do you have to do that?" she'd asked on more than one occasion) but Bellatrix couldn't understand how feeding her baby the way nature intended was any grosser than hiring a squib wet nurse to do it, and she certainly couldn't go off buying bottles and formula without arousing suspicion, especially as she was one of His followers to have been put on a Home Arrest of sorts three weeks ago, punishment for Potter's escape from Malfoy Manor. That was when Bellatrix lost her wand.

How she missed that damn wand.

She'd had it since she was eleven years old. It should have been snapped in two when she went to Azkaban, but thankfully her mother's connections saved it (placed in Narcissa's care) before their falling out and her subsequent imprisonment. When Cissy returned it to her after the mass breakout of Azkaban three and a half years ago, Bellatrix felt like she'd been reunited with an old friend. Now, who knows where it was? Stolen by those rotten children. Being used for _good, not evil,_ no doubt. Disgusting.

Those rotten, lucky children, who had a knack for getting themselves out of spots no witch or wizard ought to be able to manage.

 _How_ had they finagled their way into her vault?

The Gringotts goblins knew her wand had been stolen. There was a chance the vile Boy-Who-Lived and his pals might use it for such a purpose. So had the goblins been in on the deception, or…

The Imperius Curse, perhaps? Would Potter stoop to using an Unforgivable?

He'd tried, once. On her. "Crucio!" He'd called, when they battled at the Ministry. She could recall laughing, telling him, "You've got to _mean_ it!"

So she shouldn't put it past him.

"Your father might well kill me tonight, Nova Black," Bellatrix whispered. Completely unaware that anything was amiss, the baby was still drinking her mother's milk, as peaceful as could be. Bellatrix stroked the infant's pale cheek. She was a strikingly beautiful baby. When Bellatrix pointed this out to her youngest sister, Narcissa had laughed.

"All mothers think their babies are the most beautiful babies ever born. I was so in love with Draco, I thought no baby before or since had ever been so precious."

Bellatrix snorted. "Draco? Please. He had red blotches all over his face and his head was weirdly shaped."

"His head was _not_ weirdly shaped!" Narcissa had put her hands on her hips, indignant. "He got a little stuck when he was coming out and had to be pulled along by a mediwitch, that's all. He was fine in a few days! And I think his red spots were cute!"

"Yeah, real cute," Bellatrix had replied sarcastically. "Nothing says cute like a bad case of spattergroit."

Narcissa's eyes flashed. "He did _not_ look like he had spattergroit!"

In the interest of ending the argument, Bellatrix had relented, but now, as she sat cradling her baby in the corner of the room by the crib, she whispered, "Your cousin Draco was born with a weird-shaped head, he was splotchy-red-faced, and he was huge. Nine pounds at birth. Nine! With crooked feet because he didn't have enough space in the womb. If there's ever been an uglier baby I've not seen it. Not you, though, Nova Black. You're perfection. The best looking baby in the entire history of the Black family, with the possible exception of myself." She paused, considering. "Perhaps we're tied. But the point is, you're beautiful. Not at all like deformed Draco or ugly half-blood Nymphadora."

Truthfully, Bellatrix had no idea what Andromeda's daughter Nymphadora Tonks had looked like as a baby, but she imagined since the girl was a metamorph she probably had purple hair or a kitten's nose or something equally stupid, and Nymphadora's newborn son, Bella's great-nephew, was rumored to be just as abnormal.

"My cousin Regulus got an eye infection at four days old, so he was hideous when I first saw him. Sirius was yellow from jaundice, my sister Andromeda was so pale you could see her veins, and your Auntie Narcissa… well, actually, Narcissa wasn't awful looking, but her ears stuck out, they still do, which is why she wears her hair down over them even now. Not one of them was anywhere near as pretty as you are."

As a matter of fact, mot only was Bellatrix absolutely certain there had never been a more beautiful baby in the Black family than the one she herself had given birth to only eight weeks ago (approximately five or six weeks early), but she suspected there'd never been a more perfect baby born anywhere else in the entire world.

Baby Nova had large blue-gray eyes that had already started to darken with time and a head of thick black hair, though some of it had already fallen out (especially in the back) which Narcissa assured her was normal. Her pale skin was free of the imperfections Draco had been plagued with, and she had the sweetest, tiniest little eyelashes, and fat squishy kneecaps, and itty bitty fingernails on slender little fingers that wrapped around Bellatrix's finger whenever possible. Currently those soft baby hands were curled into fists resting on her breast. The suckling slowed, signifying Nova was getting full and falling asleep. Bellatrix leaned over to sniff her daughter's head. This is the smell she imagined Amortentia giving off, though it used to make her smell burning candles and the late summer air after a rainstorm.

Though Bellatrix had decided to breastfeed the baby mostly out of necessity, she hadn't forgotten Andromeda's words of warning about how fat Narcissa had gotten during her pregnancy and remained afterward. According to Andromeda, breastfeeding takes the weight right off, and Bella thought it seemed to be working, though she supposed worry and lack of food might have had something to do with that, too. She was almost back down to her pre-Azkaban weight (before she was toeing the line of emaciation) but she figured as long as she ate enough to feed her child all was well.

"He may hurt me," whispered Bellatrix to the sleeping baby, "But He will never hurt you. I wouldn't let Him. I wouldn't let anyone. I will protect you for your entire life, in all the ways my useless mother should have protected me."

She attempted to pull Nova away from her body, intending to burp her, but instead the motion prompted the baby to again begin suckling, as if waking up ever-so-slightly reminded her she was indeed still hungry.

Using wandless magic, Bellatrix summoned a blanket from the bed over to the corner and wrapped it around them. She was trembling, shivering, but the blanket hardly helped since cold was not the issue, terror was.

He'd been absolutely furious three weeks ago when Harry Potter and friends escaped, and even more so when she admitted that she wasn't sure whether Helga Hufflepuff's cup was still safe inside her vault at Gringotts. He'd insisted someone check but it could not be her, so He sent Rodolphus. While her husband was gone, He tortured the rest of them, including her, her nephew, both of her brothers-in-law (Rabastan and Lucius), and even her sister, Naricssa, who'd never experienced the Cruciatus Curse before and was in bed complaining of pain for two days afterward. Bellatrix had dealt with the stress of it by murdering the Snatchers she'd previously only stunned, save for Fenrir Greyback the werewolf. Surprisingly, killing them hadn't made her feel any better, and she'd returned to the bedroom of her daughter feeling hollow and defeated.

When she'd entered, to her surprise, He was already there, bent over the crib. A sick feeling rose from her stomach into her chest and up through her throat.

"My Lord?" she whispered, almost too terrified to speak. Surely He wouldn't punish her by hurting His own child.

"She was crying," He said. The chill in His voice gave her goose bumps. "If you're going to have a child, Bellatrix, you should be a better mother. Where were you while your baby was crying?"

The baby was silent. Bellatrix was too afraid to move further into the room, unsure of what she'd find in the crib.

"I thought the Snatchers deserved to die for their mistakes," she said quietly. "Please, is my daughter…?"

" _Our_ daughter," He said. It was the first time He'd been the one to make that correction. "She was crying because you didn't return. I trusted you, Bellatrix. I trusted you to carry my heir. I trusted you to watch over Hufflepuff's cup. I trusted you to keep safe –"

"I did, my Lord! Hufflepuff's cup is safe, I'm sure of it; it is still in my vault! The girl said the sword, it's a copy! Just a copy! The goblin confirmed it. Rodolphus, when he returns, he'll tell you, I promise. And I hurt her, my Lord. I hurt her badly. If she was lying to me, I would know it. She _swore_ they'd never been in my vault. Please, sir… our daughter…?"

"Is fine." He stepped away from the crib. "I held her awhile. She stopped crying. See for yourself."

Bellatrix rushed over. The baby was asleep on her back, her tummy and chest rising and falling with each breath. She looked to be completely unharmed. Bella let out a breath she'd hadn't realized she was holding, suddenly aware that He'd claimed to have held the baby to quiet her. If that was true, it was the first time since the morning of her birth five weeks before that He'd touched her, or even really looked at her.

"I take care of what's mine," He said, tugging gently on one of Bellatrix's curls, drawing her closer. "Or don't you remember?"

"I remember." She lifted the sleeping newborn from the crib and cradled her in her arms, gently kissing her forehead, not wanting to wake her but not willing to put her back down.

He placed His hand under His mistress's chin, the same way He had the night He'd learned what her stepfather had been doing to her and her sisters. Just as He had that night, He ran His thumb over her bottom lip, then, more gently than she was used to, He kissed her.

"I hated having to punish you tonight," He murmured when they parted, "But you disappointed me so. You _had_ Potter. You had him and his friends right here, locked in the dungeon. All you had to do was call for me to finish him off."

"We weren't sure it was him, my Lord. Draco… Potter's face was messed up. A stinging hex, I think. Even Draco wasn't sure he recognized him. We didn't want to bother you… if we were wrong."

"But when you were sure…" Now He pushed the strand of curly black hair He'd tugged back behind her ear and traced down her side with His fingertips, His hand coming to rest on her hip. "You still did not call me, Bella."

"I thought… I thought the girl had been in my vault, my Lord," her voice cracked. She hugged her sleeping baby tighter. "I thought you would be angry."

"I _am_ angry."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry is not enough, Bella." He placed His left hand on the top of baby Nova's head, stroking her soft hair with His thumb. "You owe me."

"Yes, my Lord."

"You'll pay for this."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Put your baby back in her crib, Bella."

The knot forming in Bellatrix's stomach pulled tighter. He removed his hand from Nova's head. Bellatrix kissed the baby on her pale cheek, then placed her gently on her back in the crib as ordered. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she almost couldn't believe it hadn't woken Nova up with the noise of it before setting her down.

"What are you going to do to me, my Lord?" she asked, eyes wide.

"I think you know," He said. His hand entangled itself in the back of her hair. He steered her roughly to the bed, throwing her down. "You owe me."

"Yes, my Lord."

"You'll not object? Not beg or plead or fight back?" He seemed… disappointed when she shook her head. "Pity."

They hadn't been together since Christmas night, the night He'd given her the ring and summoned her to His chambers. That night had hurt, even though He hadn't been rough with her. It hurt because she was still so badly battered from having been brutally raped by Him less than 48 hours earlier. For months after that, He'd not shown any sexual interest in her, so she assumed He was getting what He needed from someone else, which hurt in a different way. That said, over the next few months, He had occasionally allowed her to share His bed overnight. She'd given birth in March, a month prior to the Easter holiday when Draco came home, and just days later, His physical desire for her returned, but she was not ready. He pinned her against a wall, kissing at her neck and shoulder, running His hands all over her, but she begged Him to wait, insisting that her body had been through too much and she couldn't even think of being intimate at the moment, explaining that she was still bleeding and sore and simply not ready. To her surprise, He had relented.

"I will give you time," He'd said.

Obviously, time was up.

His hand returned to her hair. He turned her over so she was facing the mattress and used His free hand to pin her wrists together above her head.

"You failed me, you worthless bitch." He used his knee to part her legs then bit her – hard – on the right shoulder. Her dress had little cutouts there, so rather than finding material in His mouth, His teeth made full contact with her skin, drawing blood. She yelped, then bit her tongue, hoping the baby would not awaken. He pulled her hair, yanking back her head, stretching her neck. "You could have given me Potter. It's all I've asked, and I would have rewarded you."

"I'm sorry, Master."

"Not yet, but you are going to be." His free hand made its way beneath her, grabbing her aggressively between her legs, and even through the cloth of her dress, it hurt. "It's all I've asked of you, isn't it? That you bring me Potter. It's all I've asked of any of you, and you couldn't even do that, could you? You pathetic cunt. You waste of magic. You wandless whore."

"I'm sorry, my Lord," she whispered. "I'll not fail you again."

"No," He agreed. "You won't." He turned her over onto her back, releasing her wrists, and slapped her hard against the face. She wondered if this would be like the last time, when He'd discovered she'd had sex with her husband after having conceived His child, and He'd responded by torturing her into near-death. She promised herself no matter what He did, she would not start crying. The days of being overly-emotional ended with the end of her pregnancy. She was herself again. Headstrong. Independent. Arrogant.

A touch of crazy.

"Tell me," He said, a cold voice in her ear that gave her a chill, as His hand slid from between her legs to the front of her throat, "What was it like, torturing the girl?"

Bellatrix gasped for air, but was surprised to find His grip wasn't restricting it. He didn't even sound angry now. Suddenly He sounded almost… envious. Hoping she was reading Him right, she smiled and slipped her own hand over His, indicating He could put a bit more pressure on her throat – though not too much, as she still wanted to be able to speak.

"I had Cissy throw the boys to Wormtail," said Bellatrix, noticing that her Master's thin-slit eyes narrowed further at mention of the traitor's name, "So the girl and I could have a little chat, just us."

"And then…" He moved His hand slightly and lowered Himself closer to nip repeatedly at her neck. In response, she raked her fingernails up His back. She could feel His heart beating faster as her own pulse quickened rapidly. He flicked His tongue over the spot He'd just bit. There would be a bruise there. She couldn't hold back a moan.

They were both still dressed, but surely not for much longer.

"I hit her with the Cruciatus Curse a few times to start. When she was on the floor, crying, I positioned myself over her…"

"Did you?" He asked, an unnerving gleam in his eye. "Show me."

Her breath hitched in her throat. Eager to please, Bellatrix flipped them over so that she was on top of Him.

"Like this," she whispered. "With her arms out…" She moved His arms so they straight were out by His sides, the way she had done with the Granger girl. "She was crying. I don't think she'd ever been hit with the Cruciatus Curse before."

"Show me," He repeated. "Do it."

"You… you want me to curse you?"

"If you don't think you can…" He said this with disdain, as if perhaps He thought she was too weak.

"Crucio," she whispered, mere inches from His ear. Beneath her, His body twitched, but He was still in control. She hadn't been forceful enough. She needed her wand… and the will. She pictured that fucking house elf, unscrewing the chandelier, nearly killing her, making her lose her grasp on the girl, ensuring their escape. That did it. "Crucio!" Now the Dark Lord writhed beneath her, a slight smile on His face, enjoying her torment. She couldn't help herself – though His body was still jerking with the effects of the Curse, she kissed Him. He parted His lips to grant entrance to her tongue as she pressed her body flush against His, grinding against His pelvis with her own. He reached His hand up and entangled it in her hair, as He was wont to do, and pulled her mouth away from His.

"What's next?" He hissed.

"She wouldn't tell me what I wanted to know," said Bellatrix quickly, hoping to skip by the fact that she'd been certain they'd broken into her vault because they had the sword of Gryffindor. "So I had to get creative. I took out my knife…"

"Where is your knife?"

Her breath hitched in her throat. "It… I left it in one of them. I threw it. You know I've always been good with a knife."

"You can torture Mudbloods with Muggle methods as well as you can magical ones, Bella." This was clearly a compliment. His hand slid from her hair down her neck and spine, resting on her lower back. "What did you do to her with your knife?"

She could feel His length growing larger between her legs. She grinded again on top of Him, this time pulling herself up so she was straddling His thighs, positioned directly over His hardness. She rocked ever-so-slightly back and forth on Him as she continued. "First I put it to her lovely little throat, where my wand had been, but still she wouldn't tell me anything. So I had to resort to… more… drastic… measures." With each of those last three words she thrust determinedly against Him. He groaned, placing His hands on her thighs to keep her still. Her lips curled into a satisfied smile as she went on.

"I leaned close to her…" She leaned close to Him, "And I said, 'I'll give you one more chance to save yourself,' but still she said nothing. So I took my knife, placed it against her arm, and began to carve…" For this, Bellatrix used her sharp right index fingernail against His left forearm. "M-U-D-B-L-O-O-D. Deep enough to bleed, not so deep that it couldn't be read." She ducked her head down over His forearm, where she'd just pretended to write, and licked over the pale white scratch marks from her nail.

"Bella…" He moaned. She knew He was close. She might not even have to give herself to Him if He finished before they'd even started. Not that she didn't _want_ to be with Him. She did. She simply wasn't sure whether her post-baby body was ready.

(And part of her also wanted Him to leave so she could more thoroughly check on her daughter.)

"Tell me…" He groaned, digging His fingers into the backs of her thighs. "Tell me the rest."

"The girl assured me the sword was a fake. I sent for Griphook to confirm. While we waited for him, I cursed her several more times, over, and over, and over again, until she passed out… I did it just for fun…" Bella's voice trailed off. This was when everything went south, when Potter and Weasley entered, disarming her. When she put the knife to Granger's throat, only to be nearly killed by that insubordinate house elf that formerly belonged to Malfoy. She threw the knife in one final attempt at revenge, knowing the Dark Lord was on His way, and it had struck the elf – yes, she always hit her mark – but what good had it done? Even if he was dead, Potter had escaped.

"Did you touch her?" asked the Dark Lord, unknowingly giving Bellatrix a way out of ending the story as it truly had.

"I may have. My fingertips may have grazed lightly against her skin, may have made their way over her perky little chest, and down… down…" she said seductively, moving her fingers down from His chest to His groin, even though she hadn't actually done any of those things to the Granger girl. Bella moved her lips close to His ear, so they were barely touching His skin when she spoke, as her hand gripped Him _there_ and began to stroke. "We were so close, like this, when I was on top of her… holding her down… she's pretty, for a Mudblood, don't you think? We could have enjoyed her, together, the way we used to, during the first war. Would you have liked that? Maybe we could've bound Potter nearby, made him watch, helpless, while she screamed."

The Dark Lord brought his hand up to her breast and squeezed, a feeling she would have welcomed in the past, but given she'd spent the last month using her breasts solely for feeding her daughter the sensation was uncomfortable for her at best. She moved His hand down to her ass and kissed Him soundly, resuming her earlier gyrations, hoping He wouldn't want to put His mouth on her. She was in luck.

"Now," He growled, forcing up her long black dress, tearing her underwear away. She worked His robe, removing it just enough, and in seconds He was inside her. Still on top of Him, she bucked her hips, spurred on by His hands on her waist and the way His eyes closed contentedly. "Faster!" He hissed and she obliged.

It occurred to her that they'd all been tortured that evening – she, Narcissa, Lucius, Draco, Rabastan – but now the others had gone back to their rooms, likely licking their wounds, angry, embittered, and in pain, while here she was, providing the Dark Lord with a service she was suddenly certain He no longer sought from anyone else, a comforting notion.

Yet she felt oddly conflicted. Sometimes it was difficult, being so in love with a man who didn't return it, accepting that He could cause her so much physical, emotional, and even sexual pain and then, only a short time later, bring her so much pleasure. Especially now that she had her daughter – their daughter – connecting her to Him and signifying (to her, anyway) that she was worth so much more than any of His other followers had even been or would ever be, it fucked with her head knowing that this man she pledged her loyalty to, a man for whom she would die, could easily kill her for displeasing Him as He claimed He'd considered doing that evening. She rode Him until He came and, satiated, left her alone in the room. With their daughter.

Now, three weeks later, she was again in danger of being killed by her lover, her Master, for precisely the thing that had stopped her from immediately summoning Him when they had Potter in their clutches. The so-called Golden Trio had broken into her Gringotts vault. They had stolen the one thing He'd demanded she keep safe – Hufflepuff's cup.

What's more, they'd done it because she'd led them right there, by panicking when she saw the sword in the Snatcher's hand, by demanding the girl tell her what else they had taken.

It was all her fault.

He would know it was all her fault.

And she was terrified.

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A/N Thanks for reading! Any reviews are appreciated. AL


	2. Chapter 2: Help

**CHAPTER TWO:**

 **Help**

Time was passing and yet He hadn't arrived. He must know by now what happened at Gringotts. She imagined the whole Wizarding World must know by now. The damn kids had broken out of the place on the back of a half-blind dragon, for Merlin's sake. There was no hiding something like that, even if one was in charge of the Ministry, the Daily Prophet, and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Hogwarts.

Snape.

Snape was at Hogwarts.

Snape was the Dark Lord's most trusted servant, His most loyal… after herself, of course. Also, Snape had been the one given the task of placing the sword in her vault in the first place, so maybe he would feel personally connected... indebted... responsible. Would that matter? Perhaps Snape would be willing to head Him off, to fly interference, so to speak. Could she convince him to come to her aid? It was possible, she supposed. Anything was possible. Besides, they had history. He couldn't just ignore that, right? Going to him for help was a long shot but she was desperate.

"Come on," she whispered to the baby, removing her from her breast, resting her against her chest with the baby's head by her shoulder. She patted Nova's back, waiting for a burp. "We're going on your first trip to Hogwarts."

But how would she get there?

Side-along apparition was possible with a baby, but could be dangerous, especially if attempted without her wand. She needed a wand.

She couldn't take Draco's – he'd lost his too. She couldn't take Narcissa's – she'd given hers to Draco. The Dark Lord himself had used Lucius' wand until it was destroyed. Those damn kids had stolen Pettigrew's along with her own, and there was no chance her husband would give up his. She _had_ stolen one off a Snatcher she killed three weeks back, but the Dark Lord confiscated it an hour later, telling her He didn't think she deserved one for the time being. Presumably He also took the others before having the house elves dispose of their bodies.

That left Rabastan.

Finally, the baby let out a little burp. Hurriedly Bellatrix fixed her dress, threw on a traveling cloak, wrapped the infant in a thick blanket, and went to find her brother-in-law.

He was alone in the kitchen, drinking what appeared to be scotch.

"You," she said, pointing a bony finger at him, holding a sleeping Nova Black in the crux of her left arm. "I need your wand."

He laughed, downed the rest of his drink, and turned to face her.

"My wand? Why would I go and give you that. You couldn't hold onto your own. You don't deserve mine."

"It wasn't a request. I need it. Now. You'll get it back."

"You _need_ it?" Again, he laughed. She momentarily envisioned how great it would feel to punch him in his haggard face, perhaps break a crooked tooth or two. "So you need it. So what?"

"I need it to travel with the baby. I _don't_ need it to curse you into insanity. Hand it over. I said you'll get it back."

"I don't trust you."

"Hand it over."

"Or what? You'll beat me about the head with that bastard baby of yours?"

Heat resonated from her fingertips. She was sick of his attitude, unwilling to ask again (plus, nobody insulted her baby). With a flick of her wrist, he found himself being choked by an unseen force. His hands climbed to this throat as if trying to pull away a cord or rope but they found nothing there.

"If you wish to breathe again," she said, her voice lilting, "You'll give me the wand. Otherwise I'll simply take it after you're dead."

Rabastan thrust his hand into the pocket of his robes and held the wand out to her. His eyes bulged, silently begging her to lift this curse. She smiled.

"Thanks so much." She flicked the wand. Rabastan was again able to breathe and took advantage of that to eek out, "Bitch!"

"I get called that rather regularly," she said. "I'm starting to think of it as my middle name. Bellatrix Bitch Black Lestrange. How does it sound?"

"Sounds better without the Lestrange," he said, still rubbing his sore throat. She spit on the floor by his feet. Without further discussion, she held baby Nova tight, closed her eyes, and apparated.

Moments later, she was standing inside the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. She walked from there to the castle (unaware of the tunnel she'd be traveling through in a few hours time) at the quickest possible pace. Thankfully, the baby continued to sleep. When she was close enough, she opened her traveling cloak, slipped the baby inside, and tied it shut again.

She was worried she'd have difficulty getting inside Hogwarts, but by a stroke of luck, Alecto Carrow was guarding the door, scolding students for something or other.

"I need to see the Headmaster," Bellatrix said loftily, attempted to push past her.

"Wait a second," said Alecto, grabbing Bella by the arm. "Who're you?"

"You know who I am," said Bellatrix. "You blithering idiot, you've known me for twenty-five years."

"How do I know you ain't that girl again, in disguise? I heard she got into Gringotts pretending to be you. Plus the Dark Lord says you can't leave your sister's house, so whatchyoo doin' here anyway? And what's that you've got under your cloak?

 _"_ _Please don't cry,"_ Bellatrix thought as she felt the baby stir. If the baby cried now, she'd certainly be found out.

"Hello? I asked, what's that…"

"What I've got is no concern of yours," she answered haughtily. "The Dark Lord sent me to see Severus. I haven't got much time. When He returns to Malfoy Manor and I'm not there because I've been held up here, how do you think He'll react? Do you think He'll be happy about the delay, Alecto? However He feels, I'll be sure to send Him your way to express it."

Perhaps it was the sharpness of her voice, or maybe Alecto was simply too afraid of the possibility of a visit from the Dark Lord to argue further, but she seemed to accept this. "So sorry, Mrs. Lestrange. Do come in."

"Don't call me Mrs. Lestrange," snapped Bellatrix. She strode quickly by, heading straight for the Headmaster's office, the location of which she remembered from her own days at Hogwarts when she was seventeen, the evening he'd called her in, scolded her, and given her detention for practicing a few questionable jinxes on a pair of obnoxious Slytherin first years who'd been caught gossiping about her in the common room. It was her second time being assigned detention, though this was for only one night, not every night for two weeks, which had been assigned shortly after she'd spent the night with Him (which required sneaking away from a Hogsmeade visit). That indiscretion also lost her the title of Head Girl, something she'd only been bestowed in the first place because Professor Slughorn (head of Slytherin house) was so hopelessly charmed by her. She was replaced by her own cousin, Zillah Rosier.

She got past the statue blocking the Headmaster's office easily enough, having guessed the password (Lily. How disgustingly predictable) then banged on the door until he answered.

"Who is it?" he snapped as he opened it. When he saw her, his dark eyes widened. "You… what… Get in here."

She entered. He closed the door. She slipped sleeping Nova out from under her cloak.

His mouth dropped open. "You brought the baby?"

"No," said Bellatrix. "I left her at home, alone. She's a whole two months old now, practically self-sufficient, can even change her own nappies."

"She'd better be left home," he replied, "She'd better be here only as a figment of my imagination. Because the Dark Lord's going to kill you for leaving, then bring you back to life and kill you again for taking _her_ out of Malfoy Manor, and then who'll be left to play Mummy?"

She sighed, momentarily defeated. "Snape, I need help. That's why I'm here. It couldn't wait."

" _What is it with the women in your family_?" he asked, clearly exasperated. "Why look to me for help?"

She sneered. "Who else in my family is looking to you for help?"

In her arms, baby Nova roused. With a whimper, she opened her eyes and blinked up at the lights above, mildly curious but mostly unfocused. The whimper became a cry that grew to a wail.

"Shh," cooed Bellatrix, slightly bouncing her. She slipped her index finger into the baby's mouth. Nova ceased crying and, comforted, immediately began to suck. "Yes, that's right. Back to sleep. Mummy's trying to work our way out of this mess."

"Which mess?" asked Snape in his usual drawl. "Leaving despite being expressly forbidden to do so? Bringing _that_ out –" he indicated the infant, "Even though you know He wants no one to know of her, or…"

"Surely you heard about Gringotts?"

"I heard, yes."

"He's going to kill me, Severus!"

"Since when are we on a first name basis, Lestrange?"

She bristled. "You know I'm not using my husband's name anymore. But that's neither here nor there. Please, you've got to help me, to do _something_. The Dark Lord trusts you. He values you. He… years ago, he made you a promise didn't he? He promised He wouldn't hurt her, your Muggle-born, He wouldn't kill her, but He did, didn't He?" She sounded mad, desperate. He opened his mouth to reply but she barreled on. "He owes you, doesn't He? He owes you a favor. So… so perhaps you could ask Him… if He could spare me my punishment… and in exchange… for you, I could..."

"There is nothing you could offer me in exchange, Bellatrix, that would entice me to beg him for mercy on your behalf."

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to him, her eyes looking him up and down. "I'm sure I could think of something."

"You're not going to appeal to me using sex," he said, voice dripping with disdain. "For one, you're not nearly as attractive as you used to be."

"I've lost more than half the baby weight…"

"I don't mean that, though I do have to say it's fascinating to see you attempt to behave seductively whilst cradling an eight-week-old. Not a good look for you. But I meant you're not half as attractive as you were before Azkaban."

"You do fourteen years in that hell and come out of it looking good." She glared at him. She was aware of the negative effect prison had had on her skin, her shape, her teeth, her hair… her mental state… but fuck, she could – and did – still turn heads. "I seem to recall a time just after I got out of Azkaban during which you felt quite differently."

He was unmoved. "A momentary lapse in judgment, I assure you."

"I'll have you know there are plenty of men who would gladly _risk their lives_ just to lay down with me."

"Good," said Snape. "Get one of them to address the Dark Lord on your behalf."

She switched to a different tactic: pouting. "Please, Snape. I need help. I need _you._ I'm scared."

"Come off it," he said, waving her away as if she were but a bug. "That look suits you even less."

Again, she made an attempt to appeal to him, this time more menacingly. "He seeks the allegiance of the Elder Wand, Snape. He has it in His possession, He has for two months…"

"I'm aware," began Snape, but she interjected.

"Only He has failed to truly gain its power. Why do you suppose that is?"

"I don't know, Bellatrix." He rolled his eyes. "Tell me."

"Because of you. You killed Dumbledore. You, Snape, are the true master of the Elder Wand, and as long as you are still alive, the Dark Lord won't be in command. If this notion occurs to Him, He'll sure ki…"

"Are you threatening me?" Snape took several steps forward, so much so she had to step back until she hit the bookcase behind her, knocking off several leatherbound plays by someone named Shakespeare. Bella removed her fingers from the baby's mouth, thus Nova began to cry. As much as she'd hate to admit it, Bellatrix rather felt like crying too.

"Snape, I'm simply saying…"

"Do not threaten me, Bellatrix. It would be most… unwise… for you to put such an idea in the Dark Lord's head. Understand? Now you should leave. He will be expecting you when He returns to Malfoy Manor."

"I have to do something!" she shouted desperately over the infant's wails. "I'm desperate!"

"I am not interested in taking advantage of your desperation, nor do I believe it is prudent for you to be here at all. I believe you have forgotten who I am. I am the Headmaster of this school, an agent of the Dark Lord, and a capable potions master. That is all. Nowhere in any of my job descriptions have the words 'family counselor' ever appeared."

"Who else in my damn family is coming to you for counseling?" she asked, realizing he hadn't answered her when she'd asked a short time ago.

"When Nymphadora wanted to know whether the Dark Lord would be prepared for a fight when the Order removed Potter from his aunts house, she came to me. When Andromeda wanted to get a message to you concerning her pregnant daughter, she came to me. When Narcissa wanted protection for her son in light of his task, she came to me. Now you want someone to appeal on your behalf to the Dark Lord, so you've come to me."

"What can I say?" asked Bellatrix, trying to look sweet. "We like you."

He stared at her for a long moment before cracking up. "No, you don't! You hate me!"

"Well, Narcissa likes you, I think."

"I would think so," he agreed. "And Andromeda certainly seems to like me."

"Are you sleeping with Andromeda?"

"Why are you always so concerned about with whom everyone is sleeping? No, I'm not. Despite being widowed, she has no interest in any man besides her husband, nor has she ever. That is the difference between her and the two of you. She married for love."

"She married a Mudblood."

"At least her husband never ran around behind her back, right?" He smiled, which pissed Bellatrix off even more. "Not that you didn't do you own fair share of running around."

"Damn it." She moved the baby to a vertical position, supporting her body with her left arm and stroking her hair with her right hand, then bounced her lightly, but Nova would not stop crying. "Do you mind if I feed her? She'll only stop if I feed her."

"Do I mind…?"

Without waiting for further response, she unbuttoned her dress, this time allowing the baby to latch to the other side. Catching his semi-repulsed expression, she laughed.

"It isn't as if you've never seen me half-naked before, Snape."

"This is different," he said. "This is… humanizing."

"Sod off."

"You're charming, has anyone ever told you that?"

"I fucked you _one time_ and you can't get over it, is that it? Is that why you won't try to help me?"

"You fucked me twice," he said, expressionless. "Remember?"

"The first time doesn't count," she said. He laughed.

"No, I suppose it doesn't," he agreed.

"And you alone saw what he did to me the last time he was angry, Severus!" She clutched the front of his robes with her free hand. "You, of all people…"

Before she could finish, they were both startled by the sound of a door opening within the office, pushed so hard it slammed against the wall.

"Wait a minute! You slept with Bellatrix?" It was Narcissa, looking exhausted… and livid.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Bellatrix shook her head as if she couldn't quite believe her own eyes. "You and Snape?"

" _You_ and Snape!" replied Narcissa. "When?" She shifted her glare to Severus. " _Twice_?"

"I'm lost," said Bellatrix. "I need to sit down."

"No!" Snape's voice made her jump. "No, you cannot sit down, you need to leave! Hide that baby, hurry to the edge of school grounds, apparate back to Malfoy Manor, and pretend this never happened like you pretend _most things_ never happened."

"I can't go back there! He's going to kill… to kill… He…" Bellatrix's thought trailed off as she and Snape both felt heat emanating from the Dark Marks on their left forearms. They exchanged a look.

"What is it?" asked Narcissa, tugging anxiously at her sleeves. "Are you being summoned?"

"No," murmured Bellatrix. "But He is nearby. And He is angry."

"We must go," whispered Narcissa. She turned to Snape. "Thank you for... everything. You'll keep Draco safe?"

"You know I'll do as I can, Narcissa."

"And you'll keep yourself safe?"

"I said I'll do as I can and I will."

Her eyes darted from him to her sister and back again. She started to walk toward the door but instead, as if acting on sheer impulse, she ran back to him and placed a quick kiss on his lips. He did not press his lips back against hers, but did allow his eyes to close just for a moment. "Thank you," Narcissa whispered. "It's all I ask. I owe you."

"The fuck?" Bellatrix repositioned the baby, sizing up Snape and her sister, wondering if they'd gone mad, or if she had.

"Let's go," said Narcissa. She threw her own traveling cloak over Bella's front, hiding baby Nova from the world, and guided her toward the door. "I'll explain at home."

"Better be some explanation."

Snape closed the door behind them, without another word.

"I'll explain at home," Narcissa began again as they hurried through the halls, " _After_ you tell me when and why you slept with Severus."

"It's not much of a story," Bellatrix said. They made their way out to the castle grounds. "But if you truly want to know, I'll tell you."

* * *

A/N: Coming up in Chapter 3, as close to Bella/Snape as this story will get, just for you Harry Hobbit (lol). Seriously, though, like I said, this fic is Bellatrix/Voldemort not Bella/Snape or Snape/Narcissa, but since Snape is my favorite I had some fun inserting him in the Black sisters' personal drama. Hope you enjoy! AL


	3. Chapter 3: Revealed

**CHAPTER THREE:**

 **Revealed**

Neither Bellatrix nor Snape knew what the Dark Lord was doing or when He would return to Malfoy Manor, but as of nightfall, there was still no sign of Him. Their Dark Marks continued to emanate heat, leaving them and a few of His other inner circle members with a dull, aching throb in their left forearms, but aside from that, nothing.

In her bedroom at Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix was changing the baby on the bed while Narcissa sipped red wine straight from the bottle.

"Must you do that?" snapped Narcissa, shooting her sister a disgusted look.

"No, I usually let her change herself, like I told Snape, but since I'm here I figured I'd help her speed things along."

"I meant on the bed. You could put a towel down on top of the dresser and do it there. You know, when I was raising Draco, I used to send the squib girl into the nearest Muggle village for these disposable ones they have, you use once, then throw away."

"In case you hadn't noticed, I haven't yet handed my baby over to be raised by three house elves and a squib girl."

"I get it!" said Narcissa, throwing her hands in the air. "I was a bad mother! I know! You've told me, Mother told me, Andromeda's told me, hell, Lucius tells me all the time! I get it, okay! Everyone is a better damn mother to their babies than I was!"

Bellatrix smiled cruelly. "I don't disagree."

"Sod off!" Narcissa took another long swig from the bottle.

"Speaking of Andromeda," said Bellatrix. "You look just like her right now. She's got a drinking problem too."

"I haven't got a drinking problem," snapped Narcissa, not questioning how Bella knew this about their estranged sister. "I have a _stress_ problem. You told me you'd explain when and why you slept with Severus Snape. Well, I'm waiting."

"You first." Bellatrix pinned the new nappie in place, snapped shut Nova's soft cotton white one-piece sleep set, and placed on her back in the crib. The baby stirred for only a moment before falling asleep. "Tell me quietly. Don't wake her up."

"Oh, no." Narcissa shook her head, one hand on her hip, the other wagging a finger. "You first."

"Dammit. It's nothing, Cissy. I… if you must know, I took his virginity almost seventeen years ago and I did it solely because the Dark Lord told me to. Your darling Snape was all torn up on account of that Mudblood girl he liked being marked for death."

"Lily Potter?"

Bellatrix was momentarily taken aback. "Yes. You knew?"

"He told me. Continue."

"Well, he begged the Dark Lord not to kill her and the Dark Lord said He wouldn't, but in the interim He said He thought Snape's problem was just that he needed a good shag. I mean, the man was twenty, twenty-one, and He'd never even properly kissed a woman. It was pathetic."

"So it's true then, what they say?" Narcissa settled herself cross-legged on the end of Bella's bed, her coffee-colored skirt flared out around her. "The Dark Lord's been passing you around for years. And here I believed you when you said He thought you were special. Turns out He just thinks you're easy."

This stung like a slap in the face, which is almost how Bellatrix responded to it (by slapping Narcissa across the face). Her hand twitched, but she kept herself calm. "He hasn't been _passing me around_ , thanks. He simply saw a problem within His ranks and thought I, given my considerable talent in that area, could solve it."

"Thus He whored you out to Severus Snape."

"He didn't _whore me out_ , Cissy," Bellatrix said through clenched teeth, remembering a similar argument with Snape months earlier. "And I don't flatback for him either!"

"I don't even know what that term means," said Narcissa, "But I don't think it's unfair for me to equate what you did on his demand with prostitution."

"It was nothing like that at all. He simply asked me to perform for Him a favor and that was the favor."

"Sex with His subordinate was the favor?" Narcissa laughed mockingly. "Sorry, but that sounds like the very definition of whoring you out."

"Take that back." Bellatrix aimed Rabastan's wand at her sister's chest. "You take that back, Narcissa Malfoy, or so help me…"

"Stop it." Narcissa pushed her sister's wand hand away. "You'll do nothing to me and you know it. You're only angry because you know I'm right."

"Well…" Pink spots formed on Bellatrix's pale cheeks. She _did_ know her sister was right, but she'd be damned if she'd admit it. "Snape wasn't exactly eager, in love with the Mudblood as he was, but I convinced him a little playtime was in his best interest. He should have been grateful, but instead he resented me for it. Can you imagine? I gave myself to him for an entire evening, as a _gift_ , and he woke up the next morning bitter and hung-over and remorseful."

"What do you mean, 'he wasn't exactly eager'?"

"I told him I was there on the Dark Lord's request. He tried to send me away, but I knew I couldn't leave until I'd done what I'd been sent to, so I had to seduce him a bit. A lot, really. I kissed him a few times, he protested, I touched and stroked him until he couldn't remember why he was protesting, I mixed him a drink, went down on him, he gave in, we messed around, I transitioned him from a boy to a man. You know, that sort of thing."

"Basically, you molested him until he consented?"

"Don't be an imbecile, Cissy. A woman can't assault a man in that way."

Narcissa didn't feel up for an argument, but it certainly sounded _that way_ to her.

"I simply taught him what a woman's touch could feel like and he responded accordingly… eventually. Honestly, he wasn't very good, but _I_ was, so I don't understand _why_ he ended up resenting me for it when he should have thanked me. Didn't do any good in the long run, though. He was still wrapped up in that ginger Mudblood, so my efforts went unrewarded. I suppose I should have just told the Dark Lord 'no' in the first place and let Snape remain a damn virgin for the rest of his life, which you know as well as I he would have. I mean, really. Who else would want him?"

"There was a second time?" asked Narcissa coldly, ignoring those last remarks.

"It was nothing," said Bellatrix dismissively. "Even less meaningful than the first time. Please. Now it's your turn. You told me Christmas day you were _not_ sleeping with Snape. I asked you straight out, multiple times if I recall, and you lied to my f…"

"I didn't lie! At the time, I wasn't sleeping with him."

"But now you are? What, did I plant the idea in your mind?"

Narcissa avoided her sister's gaze, unwilling to answer.

"Cissy, I asked whether you're sleeping with him now. I believe your silence has my answer, and yet..." Bellatrix grabbed onto her face, forcing eye contact, so she could probe Narcissa's mind. Despite Narcissa's best attempts to force her out, Bellatrix saw flashes of what looked like multiple trysts – at Spinner's End, at Malfoy Manor, at Hogwarts, in the Forbidden Forest, in an alleyway, even at one location she couldn't identify.

"My, my, my," she said, backing away, as Narcissa furiously buried her face in her hands, visibly embarassed. Bellatrix grinned wickedly. "Looks like you've had yourself a _lovely_ little affair!"

"It's nothing," Narcissa insisted. "Less meaningful than either time he's been with you."

"Not possible." Bellatrix climbed onto the bed, straddling her sister, and grabbed her face again. "Let's see more, Cissy, shall we?" She intruded into her sister's memories again, this time catching a glimpse of them on what looked to be that night Bellatrix was attacked, just before Christmas. Snape had Narcissa pinned against the hall in Malfoy Manor, one hand on her thigh, the other creeping up her side, his lips on her neck. Only steps away from the Dark Lord's door. A noise down the hall made them freeze…

"No, we shall not see more!" Narcissa shoved Bella, hard enough that she fell backwards onto the hardwood floor. "What's my business is… mine! Besides, shouldn't you be busy thinking up ways to convince the Dark Lord not to kill you when He gets here?"

A sick feeling twisted up in Bella's stomach. Narcissa was right.

"If you're going to be that way, leave me," Bellatrix demanded. "I want to be alone with my daughter."

Narcissa stood, offering a hand to her sister, who was still on the floor. Bella, pouting, ignored it.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm sorry that I pushed you. It's just… you push me all the time. You push me into revealing things to you that I don't want to, into doing things I don't want to do… you always have! I love you, you know I do, but these last few years… I'm exhausted, Bella!" Her eyes filled with tears. Bellatrix finally accepted the hand up as Narcissa continued her apology.

"I'm sorry, I really am, but I can't go on like this! I can't have Him in my home! I can't keep cheating on my husband but I also can't continue being married to a man who treats me the way Lucius does; it's gotten so much worse since his return from Azkaban. I'm sorry, but I can't stand waking up every morning wondering if today is the day it all falls apart, the day I lose one of my sisters, or my husband, or a friend, or whatever it is I have with Severus, or… or… or… heaven help me, but every morning I wonder if _this_ is the day I lose my _son_!" Her voice broke on the last word. Gently, Bellatrix used her thumbs to wipe the tears from Narcissa's cheeks.

"I'm broken, Bella. I feel broken inside. I'm afraid all the time! I'm living with so many secrets, such terrible secrets, dangerous one, and I've never been good at keeping them but I have to or lives will be lost and Bella, I can't anymore, I just can't! That's why I went to Snape tonight. That's why I went to him in the first place! I was scared. I needed someone to talk to, someone who would listen and not make me feel flawed or pathetic or like a traitor to our side. He lets me _talk_ to him, Bella. I get to talk to him and then I sleep with him and it works out for both of us because I need someone to talk to and he needs… well, he's a man, you know what he needs, and I suppose maybe I need it to, to escape, to feel _wanted_ , to feel human, to feel like I'm not here for awhile, like I'm someone else, and I… and I… I don't want to lose my _son_ , Bella! You're a mother now, you must understand! Draco is my _everything_! I can't do it. I'm not like _you_. I'm not like _Andromeda_. I'm not headstrong or brave or independent or confident in my abilities. I mean… the Sorting Hat nearly put me in Hufflepuff!"

Bellatrix backed away several steps, uncomfortable but this showing of emotion, completely at a loss for how to halt the breakdown her sister seemed to be in the middle of.

"Hufflepuff?" she asked awkwardly, eyes darting at the crib, hoping Narcissa's noisy hysterics wouldn't wake the baby.

"Yes, Hufflepuff! I never told you or Meda because I knew you'd both make fun of me, but the Sorting Hat said I was loyal and patient and dedicated and that would do well there but all I remember thinking was 'please, no. Merlin's beard, no! You can't do this to me. I'll do _anything_ to be in Slytherin with my sisters. I'll _die_ in Hufflepuff. I'll _kill_ to be in Slytherin!' and he said, 'Well, if you want it so much you'd kill for it…' and he sent me to Slytherin but Bella I've always known I'm not like you and Andromeda! I'm not cunning or resourceful or sly or ambitious…"

"Stop it!" snapped Bellatrix, grabbing onto her sister's shoulders. "You _are_ all of those things, Cissy! Look at you! Look at yourself as I see you! You must be at least somewhat sly and resourceful to have carried on this fling of yours without getting caught, right? This affair that you entered into for purely selfish reasons? And you're certainly cunning. I heard about your efforts after the first war to keep yourself and Lucius out of Azkaban. You used every tool at your disposal, including appealing to Mother, didn't you? That miserable hag. And as for ambitious, well, you got pregnant to make Lucius marry you, right? Tell me the truth, it wasn't an accident, was it? You wanted to be a Malfoy because it was good for you, the prestige, the money, the security. You did it on purpose, didn't you? That's ambition."

Narcissa nodded. She was sobbing so hard she couldn't speak.

"You're just scared. It's fine. We all are, sometimes… yes, even me. I don't want to die, you know, especially…" her eyes again darted to the crib in the corner. "Especially not now. But I have confidence in my abilities and I believe in our cause and I know everything will be alright."

"No!" shouted Narcissa, whose hands were shaking so hard she dropped her wand. Bellatrix picked it up and slid it into her sister's dress pocket. "No, you don't know, Bella! Andromeda thought everything would be alright! She thought her husband, on the run, would be safe, that he'd get away and someday, someday he'd come back to her, but he's not safe, is he? No! He's dead! And Draco, he thought he could carry out his task and kill Dumbledore but when it came down to it – well, you were there! – He froze! He froze, he couldn't do it! He's got a good heart, my Draco. He couldn't kill Dumbledore and he couldn't identify Potter and that… that… that _hesitation_ , it's going to get him killed! I've coddled him, partly to make up for what an awful mother I was when he was a baby, I've spoilt him and loved him and done everything I can to keep him safe and it might be for nothing, Bella, because we could all die any day, at any moment, and if Dumbledore's side doesn't kill us the Dark Lord might, so we're in danger from every direction! There's nowhere to go!" Still sobbing and now exhausted by this outburst, Narcissa slumped back onto the bed, unable to hold herself up.

Bellatrix was torn between being annoyed at her sister for showing such weakness and feeling compelled to wrap her arms around her and be her protector. It was the same when they were children. She was always both annoyed by her youngest sister's tears and pain _and_ spurred to action by them. Tonight, she chose the latter, wrapping her arms around her sister, lifting her back into a standing position, pulling her into a hug.

"Don't cry, Cissy. It won't be for much longer. We've almost killed Potter more than once. It's just a matter of time before the Dark Lord defeats him and with him, the entirety of Dumbledore's blood-traitor army will crumble, so there will be no more resistance to our cause. The Dark Lord will rule over the Wizarding World, restoring order and honor to all witches and wizards, and we'll be able to live out in the open as we deserve, not oppressed by Muggles or held back by Muggle-lovers. You and I and Draco and Lucius and… and Snape…" she shuddered at his inclusion, "We will be handsomely rewarded for our unending loyalty and service to Him! After it's over, you and I might even be able to convince Andromeda to see our side. Now that her husband is dead, she won't have him pulling her away from us anymore, she'll be able to see reality, to remember where she came from. We'll all be together again. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Cissy?"

Narcissa nodded, her tears soaking her sister's shoulder.

"I'm sorry you've been so lonely you had to sleep with Snape," added Bellatrix, smiling. "That must have been awful for you."

With a snort of barely concealed laughter, Narcissa pulled away. "It wasn't. He's actually very good. Much more attentive than Lucius."

"Yes, well… I suppose I taught him well, then."

Narcissa pushed Bellatrix playfully. "You did not."

"Okay, I did not, but _somebody_ must have because he used to be terrible. Or perhaps your standards are low, considering. Is Lucius the only other man you've ever been with?"

"You know he is." She slipped a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her runny nose. Her eyes, still damp, were red-rimmed and puffy from sobbing.

"There you go, then," said Bellatrix, snickering. "You've got little to compare Snape too. And I do mean _little_."

If Narcissa realized what Bella meant by 'little' she didn't let on.

"Speaking of Lucius, I need to go find him. I told him I left yesterday without a word. He'll want to know where I've been. I'll say I heard about the break-in and returned immediately to be with you."

"It's almost true."

"It's true enough." Narcissa hurried to the door, but upon opening it, paused, looking back at her sister. "Bella? Do you really think Andromeda might come around once the war's over?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "She'd be stupid not to. What choice will she have? She'll need us."

"Yeah," agreed Narcissa, smiling slightly. "I think so too."

A second later, Bellatrix was alone. Suddenly exhausted herself and somewhat overwhelmed, she picked up her daughter and laid down on the bed, letting the infant sleep against her chest, her tiny ear positioned just right to listen to her mother's heartbeat. Bella closed her eyes, trying to mentally prepare for what she'd say when the Dark Lord arrived, but instead a memory came to her, a memory of the second night she shared with Snape, the one she wouldn't be telling Narcissa about.

The good one.

* * *

A/N: So as you may have noticed, there's a little less darkness (and, to come, more "smut") in this one than in MISTRESS OF THE DARK LORD and LOYAL TO THE DARK LORD. It's mostly because otherwise I'd be afraid this third installment would be too much of a bummer... as you probably guessed from the title and description, this story will go through the Final Battle, and we all know how that ends. *sobs* Just as a heads up, for the Final Battle scenes, I went mostly book canon except in a couple of minor ways in which I liked the way the movie handled it. Warning you now. Thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave a review... no, really. Please. AL


	4. Chapter 4: Flashback

**CHAPTER FOUR:**

 **Flashback**

 _January, 1996._

 _She'd been out of Azkaban for four days and the Dark Lord hadn't yet made an effort to track her down. She knew He'd been keeping a low profile since His return, but He was the reason she and the others had managed to break out, so what was the purpose of this ominous silence, this lack of reunion, this complete absence of communication?_

 _Hadn't He_ missed _her?_

 _Ten of His Death Eaters had escaped, including her husband and his brother, then, like rats, they scattered. Thus, for now, she was on her own._

 _It was publicly believed that they'd been aided in their escape by her cousin, Siruis Black, which would have been laughable to anyone who knew him. It was certainly laughable to Bellatrix, who folded the three day old copy of the Daily Prophet she'd manage to nick off someone she passed while loitering outside Gringotts in Diagon Alley, and tossed it in the bin. She had finally managed to visit her sister at Malfoy Manor early that morning, which meant she was again in possession of her wand. She used it to perform a couple of rudimentary appearance-changing charms. She knew they wouldn't last – everyone knew the best way to change appearance was by using Polyjuice Potion, which was currently unavailable to her – but at least she could now skulk around Knockturn Alley and Muggle London without fear of being instantly identified._

 _She pulled the headscarf tighter over her unruly black hair, one of her most recognizable features (also one she hadn't managed to alter), and glanced in the mirror above the headboard of the bed in the room she was now renting on promise-to-pay. She was certain the inn's proprietor had realized straight away who she really was, though she'd given a fake name (Trixie Riddle), but he'd always liked her so he'd agreed to her "I'll pay you double what it's worth as soon as I can access the funds" offer. He was the same man who'd let her rent a room several times when she was underage, simply because she needed to escape home overnight or spend a few hours sleeping off the few drinks she wasn't old enough to have had. It was the inn above the pub where she'd met the Dark Lord, and where He'd later taken her for a weekend, when she was supposed to be on a Hogsmeade visit with the rest of the school._

 _With a tap of her wand, her deep-sunk eyes lost their blue irises, her skin lightened to its usual marble white, and the full pink cheeks she'd used as camouflage again became hollow, high cheekbones, partially indicative of malnutrition. Now she was seeing herself as she truly was, and damn. It was a depressing sight. She shouldn't have looked. Her face was haggard, gaunt. The dark circles around her eyes magnified how wide and mad-looking they now were, her formerly full and pouty lips were chapped and dry, and she was inarguable emaciated. She removed the headscarf. Even her hair, her favorite feature, was no longer made up of thick, healthy, untamed black curls. Instead, it was limp and brittle, a veritable rat's nest, without its usual luster… she even spotted few strands that had gone mutinously grey._

 _"_ _You used to be beautiful," she lamented to her reflection._

 _"_ _We all 'used to be' something," the mirror answered back. Bellatrix rolled her eyes. She was sickly, hungry, annoyed, and impatient, and not at all in the mood for a commiseration session with what was supposed to be an inanimate object._

 _She had to take action._

 _Using the wand to create her Patronus, a large, wide-winged vulture-like bird, she sent it off with a message to none other than the loathsome Severus Snape, double-agent and potions professor at Hogwarts. If he knew what was good for him – and for the Wizarding World – he would do as she demanded and meet her in 24 hours at his home in Spinner's End. Alone._

 _She knew it was risky, but she was too distraught to care._

 _The following day, she apparated far enough away from his home that she'd be sure to avoid any wards or enchantments designed to trap her there, and walked a path through woods far from town toward his dismal little corner of the universe._

 _She knocked four times on the door, paused, then knocked twice more. It creaked open. There he stood, tall and slender as he'd always been, but with broader shoulders, wiser eyes. He was unarguably a man now, not the gangly, awkward boy she had last seen the night she took advantage of him at the Dark Lord's request, only a matter of weeks before the Killing Curse rebounded off that nasty little Boy-Who-Lived. She swore under her breath. That fucking boy. Thirteen years and almost three months ago, he'd survived the Killing Curse with nothing to show for it but a scar, and he'd manage to keep himself alive ever since. Too damn long, but, she hoped, not for much longer._

 _"Bellatrix Lestrange," Snape said, sounding bored, as if he found former Death Eaters at his door every day._

 _"_ _Missed me?" she asked, pushing past him to enter his home despite the lack of invitation to do so._

 _"_ _Not even for a moment," he answered dryly, closing the door behind her. "Won't you come in?"_

 _"_ _I am in."_

 _"_ _I hadn't noticed."_

 _She looked him over, aware he was sizing her up the same way. She wore a simple floor-length dark gray dress stolen from a Muggle shop hours after her escape, something a school marm might wear, but with a low scoop neck that highlighted her protruding collarbones. He, in turn, was wearing a long black robe, open, over a black shirt and black slacks._

 _"_ _You're as interesting a dresser as you ever were," she said sarcastically, wand at the ready, checking around his hallway for signs of a trap. He nodded, but rather than comment back on her attire (too easy a target), he replied, "They didn't feed you in Azkaban?"_

 _"The cuisine left something to be desired," she said, still checking for wards, enchantments, or signs of danger._ _Ignoring her movements, he made his way to a liquor cabinet in the parlor and poured them each a drink. Bourbon. She shot him a nasty look. He knew she wasn't much of a drinker, and after nearly fourteen years without a drop of liquor, the hard stuff could certainly take her down. Still, she accepted the glass, sniffed it, and took a sip._

 _"_ _My stepfather used to drink this," she said, clinking her glass with his. "Usually until he passed out."_

 _"_ _Presumably to escape the pain of spending time with you," Snape said._

 _Bellatrix laughed, removing her headscarf and tossing her thick black hair over her shoulders. She'd washed it twice at the inn so it looked better than it had, but nothing like the way it used to._

 _"_ _If only you knew how very wrong you are," she said bitterly, pushing the thought of Stepfather from her mind, regretting she'd even mentioned him. Unfortunately, as much as she hated to admit it, the memory of_ that man _had plagued her brain regularly when she was exposed to the Dementors. She fought those memories back only by replaying her many intimate encounters with the Dark Lord over and over again in her mind, determined to keep her sanity, confident He would return._

 _"_ _Why are you here?" asked Snape with obvious suspicion. "Your message was quite clear that I should be here at this time to speak with you, that I come alone, and that I tell no one. It wasn't easy for me to get away, you know. I can't be gone long. Dumbledore is on high alert."_

 _She spit on the floor at mention of Dumbledore's name._

 _"_ _Do you mind?" said Snape, waving his wand to clean it. "Evenesco."_

 _"_ _Sorry." She neither sounded nor looked apologetic. "Forgot you don't have house elves to clean up after you, like those of us of good breeding."_

 _"_ _Oh?" he raised an eyebrow. "Still so high-brow? Tell me, did you have your own_ personal _house elf in prison, or did you have to share with the other captured lowlifes on your cellblock?"_

 _With her right index and middle fingers, she flipped him the two-finger salute. He ignored the offensive gesture._

 _"_ _As I was about to inform you, Dumbledore is aware that the Dark Lord has returned. Potter announced it to the world at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. Or hadn't you heard?"_

 _"_ _I heard. Where were you when everyone else went to Little Hangleton? Lucius said you were conspicuously absent."_

 _"As Lucius is well-aware, I was a_ _t Hogwarts, of course," said Snape, as if he thought Bellatrix very stupid. "Where do you think I was?"_

 _"_ _Under the nose of your other master? That's precisely where I thought you were."_

 _"_ _Keeping my position safe with the knowledge that I could then be invaluable to our shared master, yes." He sipped his bourbon. She gulped hers, emptying the glass. He poured her another._

 _"_ _You're going to get me drunk," she said in an accusatory tone, but she didn't stop him from making it a double._

 _"_ _You're in charge of how much you consume, woman. Don't blame me if you overdo it, then follow up by doing something stupid."_

 _She twirled her wand between her fingers, no longer worried she'd been set up or was about to have Ministry officials sprung upon her. She regarded Snape carefully, settling her gaze on his eyes, dark as her own, before asking, "What stupid things do you think I might do?"_

 _"_ _I think most of the things you do are stupid," he said, turning his back on her to avoid eye contact, even though he was as skilled at Occlumency as she was at Legilimency. He poured himself a second drink, also a double. "Why are you here?"_

 _"_ _I want to know where He is."_

 _"_ _You…" Snape turned from the liquor cabinet, looked Bellatrix up and down the way she'd done to him, then burst out laughing. "You haven't seen Him, have you? He hasn't contacted you since your escape? Oh, but_ why _, Bella?"_

 _She bristled at the use of the Dark Lord's pet name for her, one only He and her sisters ever used. Snape continued to smirk at her._

 _"_ Why _wouldn't He have sent for you_ right away _? Aren't you His_ special girl _, the one He trots out to do all his_ dirty work _?"_

 _She raised her crooked wand, aiming it at his smarmy face. "Don't laugh at me! You've been out all this time. I haven't. You've seen Him since His return. I haven't! It's isn't fair! I want to know where He is. I_ need _to see Him."_

 _Snape downed his bourbon in a few great swigs, ignoring the burning sensation that traveled after the liquid down his throat. He placed the glass in the cabinet and stepped toward Bellatrix, who set her own half-full glass down on the end table._

 _"_ _Poor, poor Bellatrix Lestrange. Gone to Azkaban for her lover, broken out after nearly fourteen years, and He hasn't even called upon you. Do you reckon this means you're not as special as you thought you were? Perhaps you were a mere_ convenience _to Him all along, and now that He doesn't need you…"_

 _"_ _He_ does _need me!" She puffed up her chest and straightened her back in the most arrogant way she could manage, but she knew the haughty look was far less impressive than it used to be given her current appearance. "He broke me out of there for a reason!"_

 _"_ _You and nine others. Perhaps He's with one of them now. Or perhaps He's calling upon those who didn't make it into His inner circle last go 'round? Euphemia Rowle, perhaps? Your husband's always liked her, hasn't he? Or maybe our Dark Lord's currently satiated in the bed of…"_

 _Whomever Snape was going to suggest next, Bellatrix didn't wait to find out. She hit him in his wand arm with a stinging hex and laughed shrilly when his bicep swelled. It was the first spell she'd sent in anyone's direction since retrieving her wand and it felt great._

 _"_ _Now, now, Bellatrix," said Snape, drawing his own wand, holding it above his head, ready for a duel. "That was not polite. I thought we were engaged in a friendly chat, and now you've gone and attacked me. How would you like it if I attempted to rearrange your features? Perhaps I could make you pretty again." He shot a nonverbal spell in her direction, but whatever effect it would have did she didn't learn, as she ducked. The streak of light made contact with an empty, dusty vase above the fireplace, causing it to shatter._

 _"_ _Tell me where He is!" she demanded desperately. She sent another curse his way, but using Protego, he blocked it. "I need to see the Dark Lord!" She attempted a third curse. Again, he blocked it with ease. She seethed. Clearly she was not as quick as she used to be. Out of practice. All those years._ _Snape, on the other hand, had improved considerably. Wordlessly he threw a jelly legs jinx her way, which brought her to the floor._

 _"_ _You're kidding? This… this…" She struggled to make her legs keep still, "This is child's play! You've been at that school too long!" Finally she was able to make the jelly legs stop. Still on the floor, she glared up at him, then stuck out her tongue. He snickered._

 _"_ _If you're going to act like a child, I will treat you like one." He moved to hit her a second time with something else, but she rolled away, sprung to her feet, and used one of her favorite jinxes, of her own design_ _–_ _a rope-like whip from the end of her wand, which snapped around his throat, dragging him to the floor – to again get the upper hand._

 _"_ _Bitch," he snapped when the rope disappeared. "Sectumsempra!"_

 _A slash mark appeared across her left arm and upper chest, ripping part of her dress. It was a long, deep cut that would surely leave a scar. She touched the blood and shot him a nasty look. There was a moment's pause during which both considered their next course of action. Bellatrix moved first, glass crunching under her high-heeled boots._

 _"_ _How's your Mudblood girlfriend?" she inquired cruelly, simultaneously sending a counter-curse his way. "Still dead?"_

 _"_ _Don't talk about her," he said, sending one straight back._

 _"_ _How's her son?" asked Bellatrix, ignoring the blood that was tricking down her chest. "Heard he looks just like his father. Must be a joy for you, seeing him every day."_

 _"_ _As much a joy as it must have been for you, living with Dementors for over a decade. I'm certain they would've sucked out your soul, if you had one." He cast a jinx but she blocked it and returned with another, hitting him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him._

 _They continued like this for several minutes, moving around the room, exchanging verbal barbs, jinxes, and curses, more than two thirds of which were blocked by the other before making their mark. Finally she got him again with her rope/whip, knocking him to his knees. She leaned against the back of the couch, grinning triumphantly down at him._

 _"_ _Give up, Dumbledore's man?"_

 _He moved slowly to his feet, hands raised, looking as though he was ready to admit defeat, but then he called, "Expelliarmus!"_

 _Her wand flew from her right hand. She leapt back to catch it with her left (which she did. Azkaban had not completely damaged her previously impeccable reflexes) but the distraction was what he was going for. He shoved her over the back of the couch so she was lying on it, facing the ceiling, then he apparated to the other side, pinning her down, holding her left wrist down to the arm of the couch, thus she couldn't direct any spells from her wand his way. Her right hand was trapped between his chest and hers. His knees were on the floor, but his upper body pressed flush against her. He tapped his own wand to her chest, which stopped her cut from bleeding, but did not heal it. They were both breathing heavily._

 _"_ _I hate you," he said._

 _She smiled._ _"_ _I know."_

 _"_ _I mean it." He held her down tighter. "I loathe you."_

 _She smiled wider. "I know."_

 _His fingers gripped her wrist so hard she was certain he'd leave a bruise. "_ _I absolutely abhor you."_

 _Despite his steely glare, she was still smiling._

 _"I know. You_ hate _me, you_ loathe _me, you_ abhor _me…" She arched her back, pressing her breasts into his chest as her eyes searched his. "But you_ want _me."_

 _He maintained that eye contact for a long moment before replying, "I know."_

 _With that, his mouth was on hers, lips parting, tongues battling. He maintained a firm grip on her left wrist, but lifted his body up an inch that she could free her right hand. She snaked it around to the back of his neck and dug her nails into his skin, just enough. He groaned, shifting his body so that he was now completely on top of her, running his hand up her stocking, pleasantly surprised when he reached her bare right thigh. She bent her leg, grinding against him, desperate for touch. It had been such a long, long time since she'd last had sex. Thirteen years, ten weeks, six days, and approximately twelve hours… not that she'd spent her abundance of free time in Azkaban counting._

 _His lips moved to her neck, her throat, and down across her chest and shoulder, where the red lines from his hex still showed against her pale skin. Finally he released her wrist, slipping his hand down her raised arm to caress her left breast, getting blood on his fingertips in the process, which they both ignored._

 _"_ _Yes," she moaned, bucking against him, as he tore along the cut in the material of her dress – the cheap grey dress she'd stolen from a Muggle stop in London – and moved his mouth there, flicking his tongue over her nipple, sucking at her, slightly scraping his teeth along her skin. She could feel her arousal building - and his as well. Clearly, as he had with nonverbal magic, he had greatly improved at this since their last encounter too._

 _She, in turn, dropped her wand and worked her left hand down his front, removing his robe with his help. Then she pulled up his shirt, up and off, and traced her nails down his bare back. She quickly worked at his belt and pants, pulling them just enough to grant her access to his rapidly hardening member, as he magically divested her of her clothes, save for her thigh-high stockings and white slip (also cheap, also Muggle-made, also stolen). He slipped his fingers inside her, rocking them back and forth, as she stroked him._

 _"_ _Damn it," he muttered into her hair. He was angry with himself for losing control because he genuinely hated her, the Dark Lord's whore, the woman who'd stolen his virginity and fucked up his head... but at the same time, he was entirely unwilling to stop._

 _"_ _Now," she demanded, digging her jagged nails into his shoulders. "Do it now."_

 _They were both still breathing heavily – yet in a way, barely breathing – when he entered her. It didn't last long, a couple of minutes maybe, but that was all either of them needed. He finished inside her, kissed the bloody cut on her shoulder, and pulled himself up, quickly redressing._

 _"_ _I don't know where the Dark Lord is at this moment," he said as she retrieved her wand from the floor at the end of the couch. "But I know where I need to be: Hogwarts, lest Dumbledore become suspicious in my absence. If I get fired from my post, it will be significantly more difficult for me to spy on the Order, as the Dark Lord requires of me."_

 _She was still on her back on the couch, lips swollen from kissing, chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath, head fuzzy from her first orgasm in well over a decade. Worldessly, Snape summoned a small glass bottle from a shelf across the room and gently tossed it to her. She made no attempt to catch it, thus it landed on her stomach._

 _"_ _Essense of Dittany will clear up that mess," he said, gesturing toward the cut that spanned her chest and shoulder. "I assume I can trust you to see yourself out?"_

 _She nodded._

 _"_ _Very well," he said. "Goodbye."_

 _With that, he disapparated._

 _Though curiosity once would have prompted her to stay and rifle through his things, she was suddenly eager to return to her tiny room at the inn in Knockturn Alley. She had a feeling the Dark Lord, when He was ready, would know to look for her there. She applied the Essence of Dittany, dressed quickly, downed the rest of her double bourbon (which she retrieved from the end table) and prepared to apparate away. Before doing so, she glanced down at her left forearm, where the Dark Mark had been growing steadily more obvious over the last year. It was throbbing, but she was not yet being summoned._

Soon _, she knew._

 _He would find her._

 _She would be ready._

The memory had just concluded when a noise at the door made her jump. She had been so consumed in her thoughts it took her a moment to remember where she was, what she was doing. She heard the noise again. A knock. Could it be Him? Would He knock?

Cradling the baby, who'd fallen asleep on her chest, she got up and hurried to the door, flinging it open, Rabastan's wand at the ready just-in-case.

There He was, looking more powerful than she'd ever seen Him, red-slitted eyes flashing with a mix of madness and fury.

"Master," she said, hugging the baby close, stepping back to let Him in. She launched into her apologies. "Master, my Lord, about the vault, about Hufflepuff's Cup, I am so sorry…"

"Silence." His voice was cold, calm, calculating. "In two hour's time I will apparate to the Shrieking Shack outside Hogsmeade. I will summon all of my followers there. Together, we will storm the castle. Many will die. We will demand Potter, giving them until midnight to deliver him. We know he will come. He can't resist playing the hero. We will demand him, he will come, and we will kill him. By the time the sun rises on tomorrow, he will be dead, and I alone will rule the Wizarding World unchallenged. Understand?"

She gazed up at Him, her wide-eyed expression full of adoration and awe and affection, though she remained afraid. "Yes, my Lord."

He leaned forward and she thought He might kiss her, but instead He pressed his thin lips to the top of baby Nova's soft head. Bellatrix shivered. "When we've taken over everything," He said, "When the last of the resistance has given up, when it's safe to introduce her to the world, she will need a last name. Not yours, mine. You _both_ belong to me."

"Yes, my Lord," whispered Bellatrix, wondering what His last name would be. Voldemort? Certainly not Riddle? She would ask later... now was not the time. He moved His lips gently to her own. She leaned into Him, slightly confused, but content to have Him this way rather than the way she'd expected.

"Place her in the crib, Bella," He demanded. She complied. He wrapped His arms against her waist, drawing her close. "My Bella." He was breathing her in as if He was a Dementor sucking out her soul (she did have one, no matter what Severus Snape said). Her heart fluttered as she felt a familiar longing between her legs.

"I thought you were angry with me, my Lord."

"Oh, make no mistake, I am, Bella. I am angry." He said, but He was smiling, and His hands were caressing her arms and hips in the gentlest way, a confusing juxtaposition. Her stomach twisted. Perhaps the most frightening thing in the world was this - this not-knowing. Not knowing what He was thinking, how He would react, whether He would turn on her in a split second. She bit her lip, waiting for Him to continue. When He did, His voice was just as steady, just as calm... just as unnerving.

"While I was checking on my… on matters of my concern, in the back of my mind, I was contemplating what to do to you upon my return."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, but He placed a finger to her lips, silencing her apologies.

"My first thought was, of course, the Killing Curse, but that didn't seem right for you, Bella. It didn't seem right for you to die that way. It seemed - I hope you will understand this - it seemed beneath you. Also, quite honestly, I didn't feel that would satisfy my rage." He nipped at her bottom lip. She didn't move. She felt like a rabbit, scared motionless by the presence of a predatory wolf. Any wrong move…

"I thought about hurting you physically," He said, tightening the grip on her forearms. "I thought about doing worse to you tonight than I did in December."

She was too frightened to breathe, or even blink.

His right hand slid up from her arm, over her shoulder, to her throat. "I considered choking the life out of you. I gave you that cup to keep safe, and what did you do? You lost it, like you lost your wand to the girl. She must have taken something else of yours that day too… your hair, perhaps…" His hand left her throat and went to the back of her head. He grabbed a fistful of curls and yanked back hard. She gasped.

"I thought of how good it might feel to hit you…" He drew back His hand and she flinched, eyes closed, awaiting the contact that didn't come. "But what good is it to strike you, Bella? To injure you? To torture you? What good would it do to kill you? While I do not require anyone by my side – I never have – I admit, I rather enjoy having you around." She opened her eyes, searching His face, trying desperately to read His emotions, but He was more skilled at hiding them than any other Occlumens in the history of the Wizarding World.

"I could take any woman to bed if I wanted to. I could have any of my female followers… except, perhaps, your sister… and know that they would be more than willing. Or I could take what isn't mine, the way you and I used to, just for the fun of hearing them scream."

"Yes, my Lord," she whispered. The hand He'd raised to hit her lowered, settling on her lower back. His other hand remained on her upper arm, massaging it.

"But if I were to kill you, I would be doing myself an extreme disservice. And so I decided upon an entirely different course of action. I determined it would be far more prudent to stop playing these little games with Potter, to destroy the resistance once and for all, and I thought you should be there. You should be there when we finally kill the boy, when I officially take my rightful place as the ruler of the Wizarding World. I want you by my side, Bella, when I triumph once and for all. You've been so loyal to me, the most loyal. You deserve to watch him die. You deserve to reap the rewards with me."

Consumed by love and desire for her Master, she threw her arms around His neck, pulled Him down, and kissed Him soundly on the mouth. This surprised Him. In the past, when she'd been the aggressor, the one to make the first move, it had always been through the art of seduction, or with words, or by changing her appearance in a way she knew He would like. She had never simply grabbed Him and kissed Him before… like a girlfriend.

He pushed her away and slapped her face, hard, knocking her back. As she steadied herself and made eye contact with Him, she brought her hand up to touch her stinging cheek. Otherwise, she made no show of having been hurt by His reaction.

"On _my_ terms," He reminded her, shaking His head.

"We only have two hours, my Lord," she said, her voice hardened. The attitude she'd had back in December returned. "Do you want me or don't you?"

He smiled and the smile grew into a laugh. "This is precisely what I like about you. You always get straight to the point. Come closer."

"I don't know that I want to," she said, aware that it was precisely this level of insubordination that had gotten into so much trouble last time.

"I won't hurt you," He said, reaching out a hand toward her. "I promise."

She slipped her hand in His, allowing Him to pull her toward Him. When they were flush against each other, He wrapped His arms around her, stroking her hair. She wrapped her own arms around Him and kissed the center of His chest. He brought His lips down to hers and they kissed, a long, drawn-out kiss, exactly what she'd been hoping for when she'd made her move moments ago. When they finally parted, slightly breathless, He placed His cold, thin lips against her forehead. "Just as we wizards must remind Muggles of their rightful place," He murmured, working at the buttons on the front of her dress, "Sometimes I must remind you of yours."

"You know that Snape commands the power of the Elder Wand?" she responded. She couldn't be sure why this was her reply; it actually quite surprised her when it left her lips. Perhaps she felt guilty about reliving her last intimate memory of him a short time ago. Perhaps she simply wanted to be of use to Him.

"Thank you," He said, voice low. "I am aware of that and will deal with it accordingly at first opportunity. But I appreciate your drive to assist me."

"Of course, Master." She moved her head to the side, granting Him better access to her neck. He sucked lightly on it while continuing to undress her. She, in turn, unfastened His cloak and set to removing His robes while pressing her body to His as much as she dared. Against His bare shoulder she murmured, "I belong to you."

His snakelike mouth hovered by her ear. "Yes, you do."

"Forever," she whispered.

"Yes."

"And you're mine," she dared to add. To her pleasant surprise, He did not disagree.

"Yes.," He hissed. "And in two hours, my Bella, the end of this war will begin. But for now, right now, _I need you_."

* * *

A/N -

To answer Speisla Cartoon Cartoon's question, yes, baby Nova *IS* Delphini... she just hasn't been given that name yet. In 'my' world, Bellatrix would've given her daughter a name that fits better with her Black bloodline, which would, of course, have to be changed were the baby taken and raised by someone else, as we know (from Cursed Child) that she was. Hope it works! :)

To Harry Hobbit: OMGosh yes, I cried like crazy when Alan Rickman died! I was fortunate enough to have been in the front row to see him in his last Broadway production, Seminar, a couple of years back (2012 maybe?). At one point he was standing downstage right for a long speech, which put him about two feet in front of me, and I almost keeled over at that moment. My friend (a British lady in her early 60s) and I both had (have) huge crushes on him and we were pretty much swooning every time he spoke. The play itself was decent, not amazing, but he was fantastic. So completely natural. My only regret is that my friend and I didn't get to meet him after the show. There was terrible weather around for the cast to exit, though we were told ahead of time he would not be signing autographs so we might not have gotten to see him even if we waited. Happy memory, in any case! I hope you enjoyed this chapter... originally I hadn't intended to include this flashback but the more I thought about it, the more I felt I had to. :)

Thanks for reading! If you haven't already (or even if you have) please review. They make me so happy! *AL


	5. Chapter 5: War

**Note: For the Final Battle scenes, I drew from both the books and the movies, picking and choosing what I liked, so while the story is not 100% canon with either, I think I found a good balance without significantly deviating from the source material and hope readers agree. :)**

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE:

 **War**

They demanded Harry Potter be handed over by midnight.

At exactly one second past, Voldemort gave the command to storm the castle.

He did not go Himself. No, that would not be prudent. But His followers fought on His behalf, including Bellatrix. They made several kills, both indiscriminate and significant ones – just to show how serious they were – before declaring a one-hour cease fire, giving those inside Hogwarts time to collect their dead, and a second opportunity to hand over Harry Potter.

In the interim, the Dark Lord with the knowledge that that the Elder Wand did not have His allegiance, ordered Nagini the snake kill Snape in the Shrieking Shack. Though Bella was not sorry to hear of his death, she did momentarily wonder whether it would impact her already fragile sister, Narcissa, as she suspected there was more of an emotional connected between them than Cissy'd let on... especially from _her_ side. Which, quite honestly, Bellatrix thought was pathetic. Who falls for someone simply because she's slept with him? More importantly, who the hell falls for _Snape?_ Bellatrix sneered at the thought of him. She'd never been entirely convinced of his loyalty to the Dark Lord, and, frankly, she was jealous of the faith her Master put in His double agent. No, she wasn't sorry to see him go.

In between ruminating over the death of Severus, seeking out her niece, and mentally preparing a talk to have with her sister later, Bellatrix wondered how her daughter was faring alone at Malfoy Manor, with only house elves to keep her safe and content until her parents' return.

Narcissa was right. Now that Bellatrix was a mother, she better understood the pain of worrying over one's child. For the first time, she truly grasped how it must have felt for Cissy when the Dark Lord gave Draco the task of killing Dumbledore knowing he'd likely fail and be killed in the process. Now that Bellatrix was a mother, she almost felt badly about her promise to kill Nympadora, her sister Andromeda's only child, the so-called "Miracle Baby." She almost felt bad... but not quite.

Not enough not to go through with it.

"Stupify!" called Tonks the Metamorph, shooting a jet of red light out at her aunt, an attempt that was quickly and easily deflected. Bellatrix laughed, letting her niece get off a few more tries. "Stupify. Expelliarmus."

"Stupify, expelliarmus!" mocked Bellatrix in a shrill voice. "Weak spells for a weak girl. You're going to have to work harder than that to take me down!" Bellatrix was barely bothering to fight back. She didn't need to. "Didn't they teach you anything in Auror school?"

"I'm here!" called a voice. Bellatrix glanced toward the door. Remus Lupin was entering from the hall, like a knight charging in to protect his princess. Bella stuck out her tongue. This man-saves-woman display was sickening, as far as she was concerned. Hoping to capitalize on the momentary distraction, she sent a nonverbal curse at her niece.

"Remus!" called Tonks, using Protego to protect herself from it.

"You'll not hurt my wife, you madwoman!" yelled Remus. He sent a curse her way. She deflected it with a careless flick of her wand, as if shooing off a fly.

"Bite me, werewolf." She giggled. "Get it? Bite me, because you're a werewolf." The jinx she sent back at him was powerful enough to propel him back into the hall, where two other Death Eaters promptly engaged him in battle, preventing him from returning to his wife's side.

"Just you and me, little girl. Lovely time for a family reunion!" said Bellatrix teasingly. "What are you doing here, anyway? Don't you have a baby at home?"

"Don't you?" snapped Tonks, trying again to stun her aunt. Bellatrix grinned.

"Yes, but mine's going to see me again in a few hours. Yours is going to grow up wondering why his mummy didn't love him enough to…" Bellatrix nonverbally cast the Cruciatus Curse repeatedly between her next few words: "Just…" ( _Crucio_ ) "Stay…" ( _Crucio_ ) "Home!" _(Crucio)_

"I know who it is," said Tonks, clearly in pain but fighting the effects as she'd been taught in Ministry Auror training. "The father of your baby. I know it's You-Know-Who." She repeated this in a scream. "Your baby is the child of Lord Voldemort!"

"That…" ( _Crucio_ ) "Is…" ( _Crucio_ ) "A…" ( _Crucio_ ) "Secret!"

Bellatrix was through toying with the girl. This game of cat-and-mouse was no longer fun, not if Nymphadora was going to be spilling family secrets for the world to hear.

Tonks opened her mouth, probably to scream out another stunning spell or again make an attempt at disarming her aunt, but Bellatrix was faster.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The girl slumped to the floor, dead. Easier than falling into bed. At that moment, Lupin burst in.

"No," he said, seeing his wife on the ground. Bellatrix laughed. She lifted her wand.

"Let me send you both home together," she said. But Dolohov, entering behind Lupin, beat her to it with his own Killing Curse.

"For fuck's sake, Dolohov," she pouted, as Lupin's body collapsed beside that of his wife's. "I was going to do that. You robbed me of the pleasure."

"We're being summoned back to the forest," said Dolohov. "Look at your arm."

Bellatrix glanced down. Just then, the announcement was made. All Death Eaters were to retreat.

For one hour.

Potter was to deliver himself to them, alone, within one hour.

They waited.

Time passed.

Forty minutes left.

Thirty.

Twenty-five.

The Dark Lord was growing restless. Bellatrix regarded Him with worry. What would happen if the boy did not come? They'd been so certain he would. Aside from her, the Death Eaters stayed back, giving space, not speaking. Not moving.

Seventeen.

Twelve.

Four.

One.

Bellatrix stepped forward to address her Master, but He held up a hand, signifying she should stand back. She ducked her head and retreated two paces. Then, there, in the distance…

The boy.

The half-giant began yelling, wanting Harry to go back, wishing he hadn't come, but the boy appeared calm, collected.

"Harry Potter," said the Dark Lord, voice soft "The Boy Who Lived… come to die."

An intense, overwhelming emotion swelled up in Bellatrix's belly, rising through her chest and into her throat. She willed air into her lungs, but couldn't seem to get enough. This was it. The boy didn't even look as though he intended to fight back. This was the end. They'd won!

Slowly, the Dark Lord raised His wand, pointing it at Potter. It would only take two words.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A flash of green light, and the Boy Who Lived was on the ground, a threat to them no longer. They cheered! The Boy Who Lived was on the ground…

But so was the Dark Lord.

Gasping, Bellatrix rushed to her lover's side, kneeling beside Him. She shook Him but He did not stir. For far too long, He lay there, not moving. She felt panic rising within her where there had, mere moments ago, been joy. _Wake up,_ she pleaded silently. _Wake up, wake up._

Finally, finally, He opened His eyes. She worried He might be hurt, thus tried to help Him up, but He snapped at her and pushed her away. She landed on her knees in the dirt. Angry tears burned behind her eyes but she refused to let them fall and in seconds she had blinked them back, wiping the few escapees away with her sleeve, as she lifted herself up from the forest floor. The Dark Lord demanded Narcissa check the boy, to be sure he was not breathing, to confirm his death. Showing no emotion, as if she'd manage to separate herself completely from the woman who'd been falling apart in Bella's bedroom hours earlier, Cissy walked slowly toward the boy's body.

Standing over him, Narcissa seemed to feel the slightest bit of hesitation. She glanced back at her sister before crouching down beside his body. She appeared to be staring at his chest, listening for breath, her ear near his mouth. Bellatrix waited for word with her breath baited. Finally, Narcissa stood and faced her sister, her husband, the Death Eaters, and the Dark Lord.

"Dead," she said.

Yes!

The Dark Lord demanded the half-giant carry Harry Potter back to the castle, for his defeated, dead body to be displayed to all still fighting there.

"Harry Potter is dead!" the Dark Lord announced, crushing the morale of those fighting against them. He repeated it to cheers and laughter from the Death Eaters.

"Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

Bellatrix stood up on a rock, facing the crowd of students and teachers and members of the Order of the Phoenix, triumphant, as the Dark Lord moved into the center of the damaged castle grounds, His followers behind Him, facing those expected to defect. Bellatrix beamed. Just as it would be true for Andromeda, there was nothing left for any of them but for to give up, to give in. To join her Master, who now asked who would be the first to make their move.

"Draco," called Lucius, holding out his hand to his son. Draco didn't react. "Draco?"

Narcissa stepped forward beside her husband, also reaching out, her eyes pleading for him to come, to join her. "Draco?" she said softly. Finally, he stepped away from the crowd, toward his parents. He was embraced by the Dark Lord, as they all would be, if only they were smart enough to switch their alliance. Once Draco was close enough to touch, Narcissa hugged him and guided him back into the crowd of Death Eaters, further from the Dark Lord. Away, even, from his own father. Bellatrix resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Even though she could now comprehend the agony her sister experienced over the threat of losing her only child, she still thought the little display was sort of beneath them.

Then, another boy stepped forward.

She recognized him. Neville Longbottom, whose parents she'd tortured into insanity. Bellatrix laughed mockingly, but she was also both surprised and pleased that he'd jumped ship so quickly.

Except that's not what he was doing.

He wanted to continue to fight.

Even while being burned by the Sorting Hat, mocked by the Dark Lord, and marked for death, he did not come to his senses. He wanted to continue to fight.

Stupid boy.

Then, without warning, he pulled a sword from the hat.

Bellatrix's eyes widened. She knew that sword. The sword that was supposed to be in her vault. Of course, considering the break-in yesterday, she supposed she'd be lucky if there was _anything_ left in her vault.

Chaos erupted around them. Hagrid's giant brother was leading an attack on the Dark Lord's giants, centaurs had joined the fight, and the battle was back in full-swing, moving toward Hogwarts' entrance hall.

Bellatrix was watching when, with one fell swoop, Neville lopped off the head of the snake, Nagini.

Blood and death were all around them. One by one, they were being defeated. Stunned, disarmed, a few even killed. She watched as their ranks thinned withotu Yaxley, Dolohov, Macnair, Rookwood…

How could this be?

Potter was dead!

They had won!

Why were these idiots still fighting?

And where were the others? Lucius, Narcissa Draco…? They had gone, disappeared, disapparated, probably. The cowards. Bella would certainly be talking to her sister about this later. You don't just take your son and go home, not in the middle of a war!

In the center of the hall, the Dark Lord battled with Professors McGonagall and Slughorn and a tall Ministry wizard Bellatrix did not know, Kingsley Shacklebolt. She knew her Master could hold his own, even against those three at once, and so she continued to fight her own battles, against, among others, that little Weasley girl Potter was rumored to like. Killing her would feel good, better than killing Nymphadora, but, as usual, Bella did not hurry along with the task. As Dumbledore said shortly before his death, Bellatrix liked to play with her food before eating it.

That said, she was about to end it, to finish off the girl and move on to a bigger challenger, when the ginger's mother, Molly Weasley, jumped in.

"Not my daughter, you bitch!" the woman screamed. Bellatrix laughed – well, almost laughed – but then, square in the chest… she hadn't seen it coming… she didn't even know what incantation the woman had used. There was a second – no, a fraction of a second – during which Bellatrix knew she was going to die. Her last thought was of her baby daughter, Nova Black, at Malfoy Manor in her crib awaiting her parents' return from her father's victory, soon to be given a proper last name.

That was the last image in her head, her very last thought.

Then she was gone.

And, in realizing this, the Dark Lord screamed.

Not that the memory of a person's last happy moments matter once that person has died, but if Bellatrix had been asked about hers, it would not have been when she murdered her niece, or when she stood on the rock facing the defeated crowd, or even when she saw the Dark Lord finally kill Potter, nor was it when his death was confirmed by her youngest sister.

No, it would have been right after she and the Dark Lord had concluded making love the evening before, during the two hours before the final battle was to begin.

She'd expected Him to be angry with her for the loss of Hufflepuff's Cup from her vault at Gringotts. She'd expected, perhaps, a repeat of the night He'd savagely beaten and raped her, sparked by her insubordination during a meeting at Malfoy Manor, made worse when He learned that she'd slept with her husband against His wishes the day before.

What she had not expected was for Him to be attentive, gentle, passionate... and almost… _dare she think it?_ … loving.

After she'd placed baby Nova Black in her crib as requested, He'd wrapped His arms against her waist. "My Bella," He'd murmured, drawing her close, breathing her in as a Dementor sucking out her soul.

She'd kissed Him. He'd hit her. They began undressing each other. She told Him she belonged to Him.

"In two hours, Bella, the end of this war will begin. But for now, right now, I need you."

"Yes, my Lord," she'd whispered.

When she'd completely freed Him of His clothing and He of hers, she knelt on the bed, facing Him. He stood at the foot of it, His knees barely touching the mattress. This way, they were nearly the same height.

She ran her hands up from His waist to his chest to His shoulders and His hands made their way down from her neck, over her back, to her hips.

As He kissed and touched her, she closed her eyes and pictured Him as He was, back when they met. Approximately 41, charming, virile, good-looking. She was too young for Him, too inexperienced, too impressionable… and yet, it many ways, He'd treated her like an equal, right from their initial meeting. Apparently, He remembered it well, too.

"I knew you were special at first glance," He hissed as she sucked at His neck. "You were reading Magick Moste Evile in that pub down on Knockturn Alley. Remember?"

"Of course I remember," she answered, kissing his shoulder, his chest. He guided her to her knees on the floor. She took Him in her mouth.

"You were beautiful." His fingers entwined themselves in her hair. "You were wearing a black corset with silver underlay that hugged your thin frame and enhanced the curve of your breasts, remember?"

Without removing her mouth from Him, she nodded.

"You had high cheekbones, dark eyes… skin pale as snow. Your hair… I've always been drawn to your hair…" He tugged at it. She moaned and the vibration of it made Him go slightly weak at the knees. "You had an air about you, like you were better than anyone else and you knew it. I wanted you then. I wanted to taste you, to tame you, to claim you as my own. And I have, haven't I?"

She looked up at Him from the floor, meeting His eyes. "Yes," she whispered.

"Come here."

She stood. He tossed her effortlessly onto the bed. His snakelike tongue made its way down her body the way her kisses had on His.

"You were so young," He murmured. "So young…" He entered her with His tongue. She gasped. It had been years – dating back before her stint in Azkaban – since He had last pleasured her in this way. Blissful waves of passion washed over her. She bit her lip until she tasted blood, afraid to cry out and wake the baby, as her hands grasped at the sides of the pillow under her head. Once her orgasm had subsided, He moved back up again, this time wrapping His mouth around her nipple. This sensation was still too connected with feeding her daughter to bring her the sexual gratification it used to, thus she instead guided His mouth up to hers. They were still kissing when He entered her. She met Him thrust-for-thrust, gasping for breath, consumed by her longing for Him. Their mouths moved almost as quickly as their hips. At one point she was certain she'd left the mark of her teeth on His shoulder. She could feel the bruise His mouth had made on her neck. When He pulled her hair, she gasped, unable to keep herself silent.

"Harder," she requested, and He complied.

After He came, exploding inside her for the first time since the night He 'punished' her for Potter's escape from Malfoy Manor, He collapsed on top of her, completely spent. Though they didn't have much time, He didn't leave right away. Instead, He rolled onto His back, pulling her with Him, so her head rested on the left side of His chest and shoulder.

"How many times have I told you that you belong to me?" He asked.

"Countless."

"You won't forget it?"

"Never."

From the crib there came a cry. The baby was awake.

"Bring her here," He demanded, surprising Bellatrix. She wrapped herself in the quilt from the end of the bed and hurried to pick up her daughter. _Their_ daughter. She carried the baby back to the bed. The Dark Lord took the quilt and covered them with it, again positioning Bellatrix so she had her head on His chest, this time with the baby beside her, Nova's tiny ear against His heart. He played with Bella's hair as she stroked the baby's back, calming her. Nova stared at her mother, eyes focused. Bellatrix smiled. Their baby was nothing short of perfection.

"You are content?" the Dark Lord asked. "It pleased you, giving you this baby?"

"Yes, my Lord," she whispered. "Very much so."

"You have always been my most loyal, Bella." He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I could think of no better way to reward you than this."

An unfamiliar feeling swelled in Bella's chest. It took a moment to realize what it was: love. She thought she'd felt love before, and she supposed she had (she was certain she had) but this was different. More powerful, overwhelming. For the first time since her father died, before Mother married Stepfather, she felt as though she belonged, as though she had a family, her very own family. It wasn't perfect, certainly. Not with having to keep her daughter a secret, not with the promise of war literally an hour away. But it was family and it was love and it was hers.

She'd never felt happiness like that before.

Little did she know, she never would again.

* * *

 **A/N:** Again, thank you for sticking with this! I hope the conclusion was satisfactory. There IS an epilogue to come, though, since this is an "Augury Origin Tale" which means we need to find out what happens to Baby Nova Black (aka Delphi/Delphini Riddle) and how and why the decision is made to give her away, and to whom (so... expect minor Cursed Child Spoilers).

To answer **Everything Hurts** ' (sad name!) question about my age... all I'll reveal is that I started writing fanfics as a tween and posted my first one on this site while still in high school in December 2003, so that gives you some idea. lol. In my real life, I copy edit for a family-friendly magazine and write books for middle school aged readers, so this is quite a deviation for me! But I love fanfiction even though I struggle a bit with it.

To **Harry Hobbit** \- Thanks again for your reviews! As I said before I was thinking of creating a spin-off fic for Narcissa because I'd love to get into how she went from being just like Lucius to defying the Dark Lord and saving Harry, but I'm having a hard time giving up Bellatrix, so I think I might go with a longer fic that focuses on all three Black sisters and their lives from childhood through the Final Battle, but delving into moments I haven't yet, with more information about stuff only alluded to. My tentative title is  LIVING WITH THE DARK LORD: An Augury Origin Spin-off, but I've just started outlining so it'll be a couple of weeks before it gets posted, thus the name may change.

To **other reviewers, my two PMers, and everyone who faved and/or followed any of these three fics** , THANK YOU SO MUCH! I lack confidence when writing for/about adults since I'm so out of practice (especially with the smutty stuff!) but it makes my heart swell happily to see your reviews, messages, or fave/follow alerts. :) **AL**


	6. Epilogue: Four Months Later

**EPILOGUE:**

 **Four Months Later  
(August 30th)**

Andromeda sat at her kitchen table, sipping her tea, listening for the gurgling, giggling, or crying that would indicate her grandson, Teddy, had awoken from his nap. The four-month-old was just starting to roll over. Sometimes he did it in his sleep, surprising himself, and then woke up scared, needing to be returned to his back. He was a sweet baby, bright, with thick tufts of hair that changed color several times per day, just as his mother's had.

Though Andromeda hadn't liked Remus Lupin much, she wasn't able to resist buying Teddy an adorable stuffed wolf that morning. It had a crinkly belly, soft limbs, and a tail he could chew on. She'd purchased it, she supposed, with the nonsensical hope it would someone connect him to his deceased father. Maybe she also bought it out of guilt… she hadn't wanted Nymphadora to marry him. Remus's lycanthropy aside, he was too old for her, too poor, to indecisive, and unwilling to commit. And, if she was being perfectly honest, she _couldn't_ put his lycanthropy aside. She hated to think that the old myths of the importance of blood-purity had stayed with her all these years after she left her family to marry Ted, but she couldn't help thinking her daughter could do so much better.

When Lupin had taken off on Tonks, Andromeda was secretly relieved. She assured her daughter they could raise the baby together, Nympadora and her parents, and that he (or she, they didn't know yet) would never want for anything. But then Remus and Nymphadora got back together. He said he wanted to be a husband and a father. Plus they were in love, Nymphadora assured her mother.

Nymphadora had been so certain she and her husband would live happily ever after.

Damn it. Andromeda pinched the bridge of her nose, not wanting to cry, but it still hurt.

It still hurt to be without her daughter. Every single day, every single moment the baby was awake, when she'd look into his eyes and see Nymphadora, it hurt.

It hurt to be raising her grandson, alone.

It hurt to be without her husband, the only man she'd ever loved.

She was glad the war was over, grateful, of course, but she would never get over those losses. It hurt as much nearly four months later as it did on the first day.

A crack outside made Andromeda jump. It sounded like someone had apparated right into her garden.

"Harry?" she called, instantly on edge even though the Wizarding World was in recovery and there had not yet been any attempts by surviving dark wizards to harm those on the side of the Order. On the contrary, most former Death Eaters were already in prison. Azkaban was being guarded by the Ministry with help from Grawp and the other giants he'd converted to their side. The Ministry was being fixed too, led by Kingsley Shackelbolt, the only wizard who seemed up for the task. At Hogwarts, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was preparing to welcome students in one month for the next year, though the castle hadn't completely been repaired. The previous term's seventh years had been invited back, any who wanted to attend, since it was believed they'd been cheated out of a year's education. Andromeda knew that Teddy's godfather Harry and his best friends (Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger) would not be among them, but she hoped at least a few of their peers would take McGonagall up on the offer.

"Hello?" called Andromeda, making her way toward the door. She flinched when there was a knock from the other side. "Who is it?"

"It's your sister," said a familiar voice. Andromeda was taken aback. Her sister? No! What was _she_ doing here?

"Please," called the voice from the other side of the door. "Please, I know you must be angry, but I need you to speak with me."

"You need me to speak with you?" Andromeda laughed at the absurdity. Though she figured she'd regret it, she opened the door. "Narcissa Malfoy, what could you possibly need to speak about with me?"

Andromeda looked her younger sister over, her gaze settling on Cissy's midsection.

"You're kidding," said Andromeda, shaking her head. "Well, shocked as I was when Bellatrix came to me in the same condition, I suppose since I didn't turn her away I shouldn't cast out you either."

"This isn't what I want to talk to you about." Narcissa stepped aside, revealing the small pram she'd hidden behind her. "I don't know what to do about this."

Andromeda regarded the pram and shook her head again. "You put a baby in it, Narcissa, then push it around. Glad I could help. Goodbye." She attempted to shut the door, but Narcissa blocked it with her foot.

"Please!"

Andromeda bit her lower lip as Cissy twirled her hair, the way Mother always hated.

"It's hers, isn't it?" asked Andromeda, nodding toward the baby carriage. Narcissa nodded.

"I've been caring for her, ever since…"

Andromeda interjected. "I heard you lied to… to Lord Voldemort." Though Harry Potter had insisted after the Dark Lord's defeat that he forever be called by his name ("Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself!") she still found it difficult.

"Yes," said Narcissa, expressionless. "I told him the boy was dead."

"But he wasn't."

"Obviously."

"Why?" Andromeda opened the door the rest of the way but still didn't move to let her sister enter.

"I asked him… about Draco… I was worried… my son might be dead. He… answered me. Said he was alive… I… I didn't care, I mean, I… Potter's being alive or dead, it didn't matter to me, so long as Draco… The Dark Lord, He didn't care if Draco lived... He didn't care about anyone, not even Bella... He... I... Draco..."

"Quit stuttering, I get it," said Andromeda, tossing her hair. She looked so much like Bellatrix whenever she did that. "I begged Nymphadora not to go that night. I threatened to put her in a full body bind to keep her here, but she insisted she had to be there, for her husband. Now they're together, I suppose. That's some comfort, isn't it?"

"Is it?"

They stared at each other. From inside the house, Andromeda heard the sound of baby Teddy crying.

"Come in," she said, exasperated, since she couldn't let him wail all afternoon and doubted Narcissa would leave even if she closed the door in her face. "Sit in the kitchen. We'll have tea. First I have to see to the baby."

"Can we have wine?"

Andromeda ignored this question, entered Teddy's room, which used to be Nymphadora's, and picked him up. She changed him, kissed his tiny fingers, handed him the stuffed wolf, and carried him back to the kitchen. When she got there, she found Narcissa sitting at the table, holding a baby girl, two glasses of wine and a bottle in front of her.

"You didn't say no," said Narcissa with a shrug.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Andromeda snapped, taking the bottle away but leaving the glass.

"Nothing is wrong with me." Narcissa took a long sip, ignoring Andromeda's judgmental glare.

"At least when Bellatrix came over to get drunk, her pregnancy didn't show yet."

"Bella came over here to get drunk?" Hurt flashed across Narcissa's pale face. "She didn't tell me. Is that what you meant when you said she'd been to see you in… in this condition?"

"Did you ever get around to telling her _you'd_ been here?" asked Andromeda, purposely not answering the question. She sipped her own wine, balancing baby Teddy and his toy wolf in her left arm. "Did you tell her you warned us before the second time Death Eaters came to torture us? Did you tell her that you were the reason Ted went on the run, because you told us they'd be coming for him?"

"I…" Narcissa shrugged her shoulders. "I guess that slipped my mind."

"We've all kept secrets," Andromeda said offhandedly. "And we've all told each other things we probably shouldn't have. That's what sisters do, I suppose. Lie and confess."

"I miss her, Andromeda."

"She killed my daughter, Narcissa." Andromeda's voice was cold, even colder than it had been when she first opened the door. "I don't consider her my sister anymore. I'm not sure how I regard you, either, for the record."

"That's fair." Narcissa shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She sipped more wine. "I can only have one," she announced, tapping the glass. "Don't let me drink more."

"Trust me, I can finish the rest of the bottle myself. So. You and Lucius are expecting?"

"Well…" Narcissa's eyes darted around the kitchen, seeking something – anything – to focus on beside her sister, her sister's grandbaby, and the baby sleeping beside her in the stroller. "One of us is expecting, anyway."

"What?" Andromeda leaned forward, shocked. "It's not his?"

"I… well, honestly, I don't _know_. I had a little… _thing_ … so I can't be sure… Lucius says if it's _not_ his he'll divorce me, which I can understand, but at the same time… I mean… he slept around on me for twenty years and I never once threatened to divorce _him,_ you know? Plus _I'm_ the reason he hasn't been sent to Azkaban."

"Because you lied on behalf of Harry Potter?"

"Yes. And because I pressured him to turn in everyone… everyone who tried to run. Our former friends. The Dark Lord's most ardent supporters, including those who avoided Azkaban last time. Thus far we've testified against Rabastan, Rodolphus, Hortensia, the Carrows, Yaxley, Dolohov, Macnair…"

"That must make you a target, if any of You-Know-Who's supporters are still out there."

Narcissa bit her lip, glancing back toward Bella's baby. "Yes, some of them are and I imagine they're not happy with us. But a lot of things might make me a target at the moment." Without realizing she'd done it, she moved to rest the hand not holding her wine glass on her swelling belly. Andromeda nodded.

"Who's the father?"

"He's dead."

Andromeda raised an eyebrow. "His name died with him, did it?"

"If…" Narcissa took a deep breath and let it out slowly. " _If_ my husband is not the baby's father, only one other man could be, and no one would be helped by… by knowing about it."

A sharp cry from inside the pram startled them. Narcissa lifted out baby Nova. She balanced the six-month-old in her lap, supporting her carefully, since she still couldn't quite sit independently. Teddy's face lit up at the sight of the girl – his second cousin, or maybe first cousin once removed? He reached out to touch her.

"She's kind of cute," said Andromeda, not quite sounding like she meant it. "She has your sister's eyes. Nice complexion. Sort of fat."

"She's gained a lot of weight since I started giving her formula. Bella was breastfeeding, if you can imagine. The thought of it rather disgusts me, but she seemed to enjoy it. She said she felt like it was a bonding experience. Can you imagine? Bellatrix Black talking about having a bonding experience with a baby? Severus – _Snape_ – once saw her doing it and commented that he found it disturbing because it humanized her, which didn't mean much to me at the time, but I've found myself thinking on it since, for some reason. Maybe because, since the war ended, she'd been made out to be this super-villain, as evil and sadistic as the Dark Lord Himself, which I just can't... I just can't abide, not having known her... before. Anyway, Bella also insisted breastfeeding would take the baby weight off. No idea where she heard that."

Despite the intense hatred she'd been feeling toward her sister since Nymphadora's murder, Andromeda had to laugh. "I told her that," she explained, catching Cissy's puzzled expression. "It _does_ take the weight off. It did for me. I was down to my pre-baby weight in a matter of months. It took you ten years."

Narcissa scowled. "Two years."

"Five years."

"Fine, five." There was an uneasy silence as both contemplated the absurdity of this same conversation held between Andromeda and Bellatrix, which had taken place nearly a year ago.

"So you plan to raise that one?" asked Andromeda, pointing at Nova, who was sucking on her own little fist, ignoring Teddy, who was still cooing and reaching toward her.

"How can I? No one knows she exists. I was permitted one visit with Rodolphus in Azkaban. I asked what he wanted to do. He suggested giving her a new identity and paying Euphemia Rowle to raise her. She was a Death Eater too, but too low-level, she won't go to Azkaban, no one cares enough to try and put her there. He said there should be enough gold left in his and Bella's Gringotts vault to keep Nova fed and sheltered until she comes of age. I don't like the idea, especially since I discovered last December that he'd been having an affair with Euphemia, but what can I do? She's not mine. And I'll have my hands full enough with this one, especially if Lucius casts me out. I can't exactly get by on my good name, you know?" She scoffed.

"Not to mention the damage it could do her, growing up in our world with _that name."_

Narcissa furrowed her brow and sniffed the baby's head, which smelled of powder and shampoo. "What's wrong with Nova? I think it's pretty."

"I didn't mean her literal name. I meant her parentage."

"Yes, well, being Bella's baby would be difficult, I'm sure, but…"

"I meant because of her father. Oh! Merlin's beard!" Andromeda's face took on an expression that Narcissa interpreted as a mix of revulsion and worry. "I do hope that baby and yours don't have the same father."

"You think I was sleeping with Rodolphus?" asked Narcissa, equally horrified.

"What? No!" Andromeda gave an involuntary shutter at the very idea. "Cissy, Rodolphus isn't the baby's father. I… how… how could you think that? You lived together for over two years! Didn't she tell you _anything_?"

"You mean you think my husband knocked up my sister?" This seemed to scandalize Narcissa even more. She bounced the baby gently on her knee, shooting her sister a wounded look.

"You can't be serious! She hadn't slept with Lucius in over twenty years!"

"Bellatrix slept with my husband over twenty years ago?" With every question, Narcissa's voice rose in pitch. Andromeda shook her head. She quite literally couldn't believe her ears.

"You _lived with her_ Cissy! You were _close_ with her! Are you _really_ telling me you don't have any idea who the father of that baby is?"

Slowly Narcissa shook her head, feeling dense.

"It's _His_ , Narcissa. The baby's father is Lord Voldemort."

Narcissa's hands flew up to her face. The baby dropped from her knee, but thankfully Andromeda's quick reflexes saved her. She grabbed and flicked her wand, using a hovering spell to suspend the infant in mid-air, allowing time for a stunned Narcissa to hold her again. Nova and Teddy both giggled. Apparently this little trick was amusing to anyone under six months old. As a matter of fact, Teddy seemed so delighted by it, his hair turned black and curly, like his cousin's. Nova's eyes widened. She was now able to see more clearly at a distance, and apparently this appearance alteration surprised her. She opened and closed her pudgy hand, as if waving to him. He replied with a toothless grin.

"Oh, dear," said Andromeda. She turned him to face her. "Teddy Lupin, you change yourself back right now!"

He didn't really understand what she was saying, but the distraction of being so close to her was enough and the thick hair on his head again became straight, turning bubblegum pink.

"How do you know?" whispered Narcissa. "It can't be."

"Of course it is! She didn't tell you? She told _me_. The day she came here, the day she came and told me she was pregnant, she sat right where you're sitting, we split a bottle of wine, and she got pissed off it, I took her to the bathroom to vomit, and she confessed that she was with child thanks to the Dark Lord, as she called him."

Now Narcissa felt sick to her stomach in a way that had nothing to do with the baby she, herself, was carrying. "Then it's settled. I absolutely _can't_ keep her. I can't! What if someone finds out? I can't… like you said, I'm already a potential target! I have to think about my son, and my husband, and _this_ baby. Besides, how can she grow up… how can she live… knowing _that_? How can she go through life if people know? It would be bad enough growing up in our post-war world as the daughter of Bellatrix Black Lestrange, but to be the baby of Bella and that… that… that _monster_?"

"I thought you were rather fond of Him," said Andromeda snidely. "You were among His most dedicated followers, were you not?"

"As I told you the last time I called upon you, it didn't much matter to me who won the damn war, so long as my son was alive in the end."

"I know how you feel," said Andromeda. "I'd almost prefer a world with You-Know-Who running it, if it meant I could have my daughter back."

Narcissa sighed, remembering how Bella had promised her their sister would come around once the war was won, how they'd all be together again. "She'll need us!" Bellatrix had promised. She'd been so sure they were going to win. Maybe she'd have been right about Andromeda switching sides, but she'd been so very wrong about the outcome of the war.

"So, who is it?" Andromeda leaned forward conspiratorially. "Your little offspring's father? I promise I won't tell a soul! Just give me a hint or…"

"Wait," said Narcissa, cutting Andromeda off. "You said Bella slept with Lucius over twenty years ago? How do you know that? Did she tell you? Did they have an affair? She always acted like she hated him."

"Make no mistake, she did hate him. I caught them in an alleyway once. We didn't speak of it –or of anything at all – until last year, when she intruded upon me after the first time my husband and I were tortured for information. At that time, she assured me she did it only because He made her. _He_ being Lord Voldemort, of course. But I believe Lucius pursued her afterward, which she resented."

"Fuck," Narcissa swore, overcome by the desire to hex her cheating husband into the next century. She set her anger aside momentarily to continue the conversation. "The last time Bella and I spoke candidly, I accused her of letting the Dark Lord whore her out and she became angry, insisting it wasn't true. But I _knew_. I knew what He was capable of. What I don't understand is how she could adore him the way she did, especially now, knowing… knowing she more than just adored Him." Her eyes darted down to Nova and she gave an involuntary shudder. "He was awful, Andromeda. The Dark Lord. He was awful to all of us but especially to her. I don't understand how she could hate Stepfather for all that he did to us as kids, but then turn around and _love_ the Dark Lord, a soulless sadist who frequently _beat_ her, and publicly _cursed_ her, and savagely _raped_ her…"

"Stop!" Andromeda held up a hand. "I don't want to hear this. If there's anything I don't want to feel right now, it's sympathy for the bitch who killed my Miracle Baby. Understand?"

"I'm sorry," said Narcissa. She kissed baby Nova's cheek. "I understand."

"So you're going to do as Rodolphus requested? Hand her over to Euphemia Rowle?"

There was a long pause, during which Narcissa carefully regarded the six-month-old girl in her lap, feeling utterly conflicted. Finally, she nodded. "She'll be better off, right? I shall tell Euphemia to spend all the gold she needs, but she'll have to take Nova far away, give her a new name, a new life. She shouldn't let her go to Hogwarts. She shouldn't tell her anything about her parents, not even about Bella. Nothing. And she shouldn't tell us anything about her, not her new name, not where she'll be living, not a damn thing. It must be kept secret. It's too dangerous otherwise."

"She'll be better off," Andromeda agreed. "You're doing the right thing." She finished her wine and poured a second glass. Noticing Narcissa's longing expression, she chuckled and summoned over the tea pot and a cup. "You can have tea. Milk? Honey? Sugar?"

"Just sugar, thank you." Narcissa looked down at Nova, who was gazing lovingly up at her. She felt an immediate twinge of guilt, wondering if the girl would miss her, the Auntie who'd been mothering her for four months, more than half her life. Narcissa shook it off. She was being silly. By her first birthday, she'd have forgotten the Malfoys entirely.

"Alright," said Andromeda, removing the toy wolf from Teddy's mouth. "If you won't tell me who you were with, will you at least answer this? Whoever he was, was it worth it? Did he treat you well? Was he in love with you? If he were still here, do you think you'd be together?"

"He treated me fine," said Narcissa. "Better than fine. But he wasn't in love with me. But I think…" She twirled her hair again, in that way Mother hated. "I think maybe I was in love with him. That's why, once I knew he was gone, I couldn't… I thought about… I was going to take a potion, to get rid of it." Her eyes darted down at her swollen belly. "I had been planning to take it that night, maybe the next morning. Only he died and I just couldn't bring myself to, you know… in case it's his. But to your last question, about whether we… whether it would've come to anything… I can't say, but the fact is… He's dead, Andromeda, so there's no sense wondering, right? There's no sense dwelling on what might have been."

They talked for another half hour, during which Narcissa drank two cups of tea and Andromeda, as she said she would, finished the bottle of wine. By then Nova was starting to get fussy and it was time for Teddy's bath, so they agreed to part, with a promise that this goodbye wouldn't be forever. After so many years of estrangement, they suddenly felt that they needed each other. No one else could truly understand them, or where they came from, or what they'd been through. That was something only to be shared by two sisters.

"Do you really think I'm doing the right thing by giving her away?" asked Narcissa as she pushed the pram out Andromeda's front door. "She's all I have left of Bella."

"I genuinely think she'll be better off," Andromeda assured her, trying to suppress the pain that consumed her every time she heard her older sister's name. "And you will be too. She could be dangerous, Narcissa. She's not just the daughter of Bellatrix. She's the daughter of Lord Voldemort."

"Yeah," said Narcissa. She and Andromeda embraced. "Yeah, you're right."

"Goodbye," called Andromeda before shutting the door. "I'll see you."

"Yes," she confirmed, waving. Then she traveled home, heated up a bottle on the stove in the kitchen (without magic, since she was still teaching herself to cook), and fed baby Nova Black for what would be the last time. At nightfall, she would gather her things and take her to Euphemia Rowle's. According to Rodolphus, Euphemia had already agreed to the plan… so long as she'd be significantly financially rewarded for it.

 _"_ _I'm sorry, Bella,"_ Narcissa thought, gazing wistfully down at the now-sleeping baby.

But giving Nova away was the best thing.

For everyone.

* * *

 **A/N:** So that's it!  The Augury Origin Tale. The spin-off will be quite different, as it is entirely planned out now save for the last chapter. It will be longer and each chapter will be in three parts, all taking part on the same day, the first featuring Bellatrix, the second about Andromeda, and the third following Narcissa. Below is the detailed description. I hope you'll be interested even though it won't be the same (though it takes place within this same 'universe' as the other three stories). Thanks for reading! 

* * *

DESTROYED BY THE DARK LORD: An Augury Origin Spin-off:

Bellatrix loves Him. Andromeda fears Him. And Narcissa wants Him dead.

The Dark Lord represents great divide between the 3 Black sisters, who grew up protecting and confiding in each other, but now barely speak, as Bella and Meda find themselves on opposites sides of a war… with Cissy stuck somewhere in the middle. This is the story of their different paths, childhood pain, romances, indiscretions, and sisterhood, and the darkness within.

FOR MATURE READERS. *Cursed Child Spoilers.*

Featuring the following ships:  
Bellatrix/Voldemort, Bellatrix/Snape, Narcissa/Snape, Narcissa/Lucius, Andromeda/TedTonks, Lupin/Tonks


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